



HEMORIAL' 

OF 

IwotlYES 




IS 











X 




Z^2^^L^ 



oG 




A MEM0R1AL 0P TW0 LIVES. 



OWEN STREET 



AND 



Elizabeth Mansfield Street. 



AMHERST, MASS.: 

J. E. WILLIAMS, PRINTER. 

MDCCCLXXXVIII. 



^ 



PKEFATOKY NOTE. 



A brief sketch of our beloved Father and 
Mother is all that we attempt in this small 
volume. As much as possible it is an autobi- 
ography, the connecting links being supplied 
by their two surviving children ; to which are 
added extracts from commemorative addresses 
and sermons. We offer it to their friends 
and ours, in the hope that it may revive sacred 
memories of them and their work. 

"The fruit of the righteous is a tree of life." 



CONTENTS. 



Prefatory Note, 3 

Owen Street, Personal Recollections, - 7 

Early Home and Education, 17 

Mrs. Street, Early History, - - - - 25 

Life in Jamestown and Ansonia, - - - 35 

Pastoral Reminiscences, 55 

Family Life, 73 

Twenty-fifth Anniversary, 89 

Beulah Land, 117 

Memorial Addresses, 131 

Resolutions of Respect, 164 



There was a voice of God in the Springtime of life, and like 
Samuel in his childhood, we bounded to meet it, exclaiming 
" Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth." 

There was a voice of God in the Summer of life, and like 
the listening prophet, with lips just touched with the live 
coal from the altar, we said " Here am I, Lord, send me." 

There was a voice of God in the Autumn of life, which said 
"Behold, I come quickly," and we answered " Even so, come, 
Lord Jesus." Amen. — Owen Street. 



OWEN STREET. 



PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS. 

>npTTO portraits which Dr. Street had in his 
-*- possession and greatly prized are those of 
his grandparents, Rev. Nicholas Street and Han- 
nah Austin. With them he had no personal ac- 
quaintance, for they both died before he was born, 
but we have from his own pen such facts and 
reminiscences as he was able to gather concern- 
ing them. With these are interwoven other 
incidents of his maternal ancestry which are no 
less interesting. All are connected with the 
town of East Haven, Conn., which was the 
family home. 

He gives the following account of his grand- 
father : — 

" In my early days, when I might have gath- 
ered information from many sources, my mind 
was not awake to the subject. As time wore 



8 OWEN STEEET. 

on, and such inquiries became more interesting 
to me, I began to question my father ; but from 
him I obtained incidents rather than character- 
istics ; yet some of the incidents revealed his 
idiosyncrasies, and were characteristic enough. 
But, bent on finding out something more, I 
caught at every opportunity. When I was in 
college I had occasion to call on Prof. Silliman. 
Learning my name, he asked if I was a descend- 
ant of the Rev. Nicholas Street, of East Haven. 
On hearing my answer, he rejoined, ? He used 
sometimes to preach for us in the chapel ; I 
remember him with a great deal of pleasure.' 
Some years afterward, when I found inquiries 
arising which there was no one to answer, I 
bethought me of Prof. Silliman and told him 
how earnestly I desired to know what impres- 
sion he gained as to his qualities of mind and 
his ability as a preacher. ? O,' said he, ? he 
was a very excellent man ; he used to exchange 
with Dr. Dwight, and preach for us in the 
chapel.' ? But,' said I, ? do you remember him 
well enough to say what his peculiarities were ?' 
f yes,' said he, ? I remember him well; he 
was a very good man.' I began now to despair 
of the light for which I was seeking. 

But, after I had been in the ministry myself 
some time, my father brought me one day a 



OLD TIME SERMONS, 9 

little package of ancient looking papers, which 
he said were my grandfather's sermons, and 
perhaps might as well be in my keeping. Now 
the light dawned upon me. Here was material, 
in part at least, for the knowledge I had so 
lon£ been seeking." 

!? You will catch something of his style if I 
let him lift the curtain and give you some 
glimpses of things wherein his times differed 
from our own. You may be interested to hear 
in a few words how one of his Thanksgiving 
sermons sounded before the times of the Amer- 
ican revolution. I have a part of one written 
in the year 1762, the second year of the reign 
of George III. His first reason for thankful- 
ness is thus given : 

f The first that I would remark upon is, the 
happy accession and establishment of our most 
gracious sovereign, King George the Third, 
upon the British throne, who so largely pos- 
sesses the virtues of his royal grandfather ; and 
it is matter for our joy and rejoicing, at this 
day, that we have one who has so much of the 
amiable character of young Josiah upon the 
throne ; who has manifested so much regard for 
the Protestant interest and religion, and has 
discovered so much zeal for the suppression of 
vice, immorality and profaneness, by his royal 
2 



10 OWEN STREET. 

proclamation, which forebodes his reign to be 
auspicious for our nation and land.' " 

" He had not preached in this stone meeting 
house long before he began to talk very differ- 
ently about this same King George the Third. 
He was as ready as any of the people to call 
him ? a prince whose character was marked by 
every act that may define a tyrant.' He entered 
into the patriotic sentiment of the war with all 
his soul. I have a sermon of his, continued 
through two numbers, which consists of a run- 
ning commentary upon the events of the war 
down to November, 1778. It reads very much 
like some of the patriotic effusions that were 
called forth in the North by the late war of the 
rebellion. Hear in w T hat jubilant strains he 
celebrates the evacuation of Boston by the 
British troops : 

" * A year of jubilee !' he exclaims. c Angels 
announced the joyous tidings. Prisoners leaped 
to loose their chains. Joy sparkled in every 
eye, pleasure sat on every countenance, and 
the tender, gushing tear bedewed many a cheek. 
Such emotions, such raptures, were never known 
before ! O, Boston, how great thy salvation?' ' 

" Let me give a short paragraph on temper- 
ance, — Fast Day sermon, February, 1775. He 
is speaking of perverting and abusing the gifts 
of the divine bounty. He says : " 



THE SLAVE TRADE. 11 

r This is practiced in a shameful manner at 
this day.' * It is no uncommon thing to see 
drunken women as well as drunken men ; and 
I fear that many of our youths are training up 
for rank drunkards. This growing abuse of 
the good creatures of God is an ill requital of 
His goodness in giving us such a plenty of 
spirituous liquors for the refreshment of the 
weary, and to restore the decay of nature ; but 
not to influence the lusts and corruptions of the 
youthful, the healthful and the gay.' " 

?? The same sermon has a chapter on the 
slave-trade, in which he expresses the 'fear, that 
while we abhor oppression, as it comes upon us 
from the mother country, we may be harboring 
it in our own bosoms ', and exhorts to r a care- 
ful search and examination of all that has been 
written on the subject, in an impartial and 
disinterested way.' This calls up the fact that 
he himself owned a negro, Tom, of whom my 
father has told me several anecdotes. He used 
sometimes to come and say, ? Master, I wish I 
could be free ! ' and the reply always was ? You 
may be free any day, Tom, if you will let me 
draw up a writing that shall clear me from the 
obligation to take care of you when you are old 
and can earn nothing.' Tom went away in great 
good nature, but never accepted the offer. I 



12 OWEN STREET. 

have heard my father tell how this negro Tom 
used to illustrate to him the way the boys would 
get him to explore the dangerous places on the 
way to the pasture, when the signals from 
Beacon Hill warned the people of East Haven 
that foraging parties from the British ships were 
about landing to carry off' their cattle. More 
than once the cattle belonging to the minister 
were driven by this negro to ISTorthford, to be 
out of the reach of the enemy." 

" One word to meet the question : Did not 
this pastor of a century ago belong to a long- 
faced, puritanical age, when it was a crime to 
smile, and men went to heaven as if they w r ent 
to prison ? I think you will find a satisfactory 
answer to this in a few words which I give you 
from his Thanksgiving sermon for 1769. He 
says : " 

" * Let our lives tell abroad what we feel 
within, that things holy and heavenly do not 
make us sad and heavy ; that we can be pleas- 
ant and pious, both together, and heartily merry 
without forgetting God and turning all religion 
out of doors.' " 

" But he obviously felt that there was a pos- 
sible error in the other direction, and so he 
managed to say on the same page, ? But let not 
our times of thanksgiving be times of self pleas- 



AMOS MORRIS. 13 

ing only, nor sacred seasons our ungodliest 
opportunities, nor holy days the profanest of 
all the year. 5 Very good advice to be given a 
century later ! " 

" Two more points, very briefly touched, and 
I will close. He had the gift of continuance. 
I do not mean that his sermons were long, for, 
on the contrary, I find them to be quite as short 
as the average of sermons now. With the 
exception of the historical sermons, I do not 
think that any of them that I have read would 
exceed thirty minutes in the delivery. I mean 
the gift of continuance in his place and in the 
service. Fifty-one years is a good record of 
ministerial labor. There is nothing for the good 
people of East Haven to be ashamed of in the 
fact that their first tw 7 o pastors filled out a his- 
tory of one hundred and one years, and that the 
graves of all their ministers in the past are with 
them." 

Dr. Street's maternal grandfather was Amos 
Morris, conspicuous in Eevolutionary times as 
a man of courage and military prowess, and of 
earnest faith as well. Dr. Street had a num- 
ber of anecdotes about him which he delighted 
to tell ; among them the following : 

rr On one occasion it became evident that the 
enemy were about to land in considerable force, 



14 OWEN STREET. 

and our ancestor was determined to baffle them. 
It was a clear night and the splashing of their 
oars could be heard at a great distance ; and so, 
on the other hand, every noise on the shore, 
reflected by the curved wall of rock, lost noth- 
ing as it traveled out to them. The old gentle- 
man was a military officer and had a stentorian 
voice. He repaired to the beach mounted on 
his favorite horse and prancing to and fro, 
thundered out his commands to the rocks and 
trees as though they were a regularly equipped 
force ; instructing this division to reserve their 
fire, and that one to charge with the bayonet at 
the moment of the enemy's landing : and ani- 
mating the whole with the certainty of destroy- 
ing or capturing the entire detachment. It was 
soon made evident to the enemy in this way 
that they were advancing into the jaws of cer- 
tain ruin ; discretion was deemed the better part 
of valor, and the boats returned without attempt- 
ing to gain the shore." 

" On another occasion, however, one dark 
night, under the guidance of a tory who pos- 
sessed the requisite knowledge of the place, he 
was surprised by a party of the enemy, taken 
from his bed at midnight, and, with such arti- 
cles of value as they could find, conveyed in an 
open boat across the Sound, with little clothing 



LAFAYETTE, IS 

to protect him from the night air and lodged 
in one of the far famed prison ships, at that 
time the terror of the captured Americans. 
The old gentleman was subsequently liberated 
on his parole." 

- e A few years after the war, he had occasion 
to visit one of the jails in the state, and, to his 
surprise, discovered among the prisoners the 
same man who betrayed him at this time. 

' What, is it you J ,' he exclaimed, f and 

have you come to this ? ' Not another word was 
spoken, but calling to mind the noble revenge 
prescribed in the gospel, he drew from his 
pocket a gold coin and saw the tory brush 
away a tear as he received it." 

Another reminiscence of Dr. Street's boy- 
hood is here quoted from a paper on General 
Lafayette, read before the People's Club in 
Lowell. 

" Among the recollections of my early life 
are my repeated examinations of an apple tree 
that stood in an orchard which belonged to my 
father, and, at an earlier day, to his father. It 
was sadly mutilated in places where it was said 
the boys had bored and cut out bullets that had 
been lodged in it by General Lafayette's sold- 
iers, who had used it as a mark to improve their 
skill with the musket. Indeed, my father has 



16 OWEN STREET. 

shown me the fence behind which they stood, 
and which determined their distance from the 
mark. The General was at that time a guest 
of my grandfather, and the family remembrances 
of him were vivid and fresh through all the 
next generation. And so it was, on the other 
hand, with his own remembrances of his stay 
with them. When he visited this country again 
in 1824, he passed through the town and held a 
kind of general reception on the public square 
and made inquiry for the descendants of the 
parish minister with whom he had, some forty 
years before, so hospitable a home. They in 
turn had secured their opportunity to be pre- 
sented to him ; and the meeting was an event 
often referred to in the family conversations of 
subsequent years. I well remember hearing 
my father relate the circumstances and imitate 
the fond and jubilant tone in which the General 
introduced to him his son George Washington. 
My father was of just about the same age when 
the bullets were discharged at the apple tree, 
that I was at the time of the General's last visit 
to the place. I was then between eight and 
nine years of age." 



EARLY HOME AND EDUCATION. 

/"WEN STREET was born at East Haven, 
^^ Connecticut, on the eighth day of Septem- 
ber, 1815. His father, Nicholas Street, was 
a prosperous farmer of the true Connecti- 
cut type, industrious, economical, well up to 
the prevailing standard of intelligence, thor- 
oughly honest, highly respected, and profoundly 
religious. He brought up a family of five chil- 
dren, three sons and two daughters, of whom 
only one, the oldest son, is now living. 

The subject of this sketch may almost be said 
to have taken his profession as a minister of 
the gospel by descent, as well as from choice. 
His grandfather was the Rev. Nicholas Street, 
who during the whole fifty-one years of his 
ministry devoted himself to the spiritual welfare 
of the Congregational Church of East Haven. 
An earlier ancestor was the Rev. Samuel Street, 
who for forty-two years was pastor of the 
Church at Wallingford, Connecticut, and died, 
still in its service, at the advanced age of 
eighty-two ; and his father, still A earlier, was 
the Rev. Nicholas Street, who was ordained in 
England, migrated to Taunton, Massachusetts, 



18 OWEN STREET. 

in 1637, and in 1659 became the colleague of 
John Davenport in the pastorate of the First 
Congregational Church at New Haven, of which 
church, as well as of the New Haven colony, 
that celebrated divine was the founder. 

The boyhood of Owen and his early youth, 
were passed in the quiet village of his birth in 
the manner usual to his age at that time and 
place. 

Like all New England boys he attended the 
village school, where his qualities of mind and 
studious habits put him in advance of his asso- 
ciates. His desire for learning caused him to 
acquire in secret the lessons which his older 
brother studied at school. After the session 
the books were carried home and the lessons 
mastered. 

His mother was a devoted Christian woman, 
and from his infancy carefully inculcated lessons 
and principles of Christian duty adapted to his 
age and understanding. We can easily imag- 
ine that her task was not a hard one, for 
he possessed then the same gentle and affection- 
ate disposition, the same noble and receptive 
nature, and the same proclivity towards all that 
was good and true, that made his after career 
a light in the world around him. Honest, frank 
and conscientious, he grew more and more 
exemplary as he grew in years. 



CONVERSION. 19 

He did not, however, make formal profession 
of religion till his youth was well advanced and 
he was near manhood. He had reached the age 
of about seventeen when an incident occurred 
that suddenly turned him in that direction, and 
also settled the question of his future calling. 

In company with one of his youthful friends 
he was, by an accident, and without warning, 
brought face to face with a terrible death. His 
escape was almost a miracle. This confronted 
him for the first time with a full, realizing sense 
of the uncertainty of life, the certainty of death 
and the tremendous considerations of eternity. 
Once turned in that direction, his mind never 
rested till his soul had found peace. He made 
public profession of religion and united with the 
church of his fathers. Still his conscience was 
not satisfied. He had taken the step to save 
himself, but there were many of his friends and 
millions upon millions of his fellow men who 
were still out of Christ. Should he be content 
with his own salvation and do nothing to help 
others ? Were his needs any greater than theirs ? 
Was his soul more precious in the sight of his 
Creator? These questions came home to his 
compassionate heart and his startled conscience 
with a supreme and convincing significance. 
The finger of God seemed to beckon him for- 



20 OWEN STREET. 

ward. The dictates of his own heart urged 
him on. His inward monitor told him that he 
was called to the ministry, and with the alacrity 
of settled purpose he determined to answer the 
call. 

In carrying out his purpose he was met by 
two serious difficulties. He was naturally and 
always diffident and distrustful of his own 
powers. To put himself forward as a teacher 
and a guide to his fellow men, was a prospect- 
ive task that sorely tried his modest and retiring- 
nature. But convinced that it was his duty and 
trusting in God for aid he did not falter but 
nerved himself courageously for the work. 

His other difficulty was even more serious. 
He had no idea of entering the ministry with- 
out the most thorough and ample preparation. 
In that day, and in New England, no man was 
deemed, or deemed himself, fit to adopt a 
profession without going through a full college 
course before prosecuting those studies that 
supplied an immediate training for it. To pre- 
pare himself for the ministry in a manner satis- 
factory to his convictions, it was necessary for 
Mr. Street to fit himself for college, pass through 
the academic course there, and end his proba- 
tion by three years of theological training. In 
a word, his decision necessitated eight years at 



COLLEGE DAYS. 21 

least of solid study. Whence were to come the 
means to enable him to consummate his purpose ? 

It was a question that involved no little 
embarrassment. He had neither money nor 
property. His father's situation was not such 
as warranted the son in looking to him for 
means. He could not borrow, and if he could 
have done, he would not. The situation pre- 
sented one advantage. He could prepare for 
college at home, and as his father's house was 
but three or four miles from Yale College and 
Seminary, he could board there, at least a con- 
siderable part of the time. For the residue of 
his necessary resources he prayerfully trusted 
to God and himself. The result showed that 
his faith was not in vain. 

He lost no time in entering resolutely on the 
work of preparation. He zealously improved 
every available moment. When sufficiently 
advanced, in 1833, he entered the Freshman 
class. Among his classmates were a number 
who have since attained to a national reputation. 
One was Samuel J. Tilden, w T ho was compelled 
to retire from college on account of ill health. 
Another was William M. Evarts, who graduated 
with the class and ever after remained the warm 
and appreciative friend of the subject of this 
sketch. Still another was Chief Justice Waite, 



22 OWEN STREET. 

of whom the tidings come, even now as this 
sketch is in preparation, that he too has passed 
from his station of earthly honor to the rewards 
that await faithful service in the eternal sphere. 

It hardly needs to be said that Mr. Street 
applied his mind to the various branches of study 
with the most thorough and conscientious assi- 
duity. In college, and afterward in the Theo- 
logical Seminary at Yale, then presided over 
by the famous Dr. Nathaniel Taylor, he derived 
from the course the utmost measure of benefit 
it was capable of yielding. Although at that 
time and during the whole remainder of his life 
a faithful and exact scholar, he was as far from 
being a mere book worm as it is possible to 
conceive. He was not a mere recipient of w T hat 
he acquired. It was not only remembered but 
it was analyzed, put in order, pondered upon, 
methodized and packed away, where it was 
always at his command, and ready for instant 
use. He reduced his expenses to the lowest 
practicable limit, and met them all and paid 
his way by teaching — sometimes in the public 
schools and sometimes as a private tutor. 

After graduation from college, and at a time 
when his means stood much in need of replen- 
ishing, he learned that the preceptorship in the 
academy at Clinton, a pleasant village in Con- 



REACHING. 23 



necticut on the shore of Long Island Sound, 
about twenty-five miles east of New Haven, 
was vacant. He applied for the place, obtained 
it, and entered upon its duties. For the post 
of teacher he possessed rare and peculiar quali- 
fications. It was a privilege to be his pupil. 
From the outset he secured the affection and 
confidence of his scholars. His long-suffering 
and invincible patience, his lively and pleasant 
manner, his helpfulness, his abundant learning 
and ready command of resources, the lucidity 
of his explanations, and his faculty of drawing 
out all that was best and brightest in them, was 
a combination of excellencies wholly new to 
their experience. He never punished — never 
had occasion to do so. He put them upon their 
honor, and even those who had been the worst 
and most refractory under former teachers, 
rarely abused his trust. If one less amenable 
than his fellows ventured to do so, one look of 
grieved and affectionate reproach stung him to 
a sense of self-condemnation and abasement more 
poignant than the pain of corporal punishment. 
He often joined the young gentlemen at their 
sports, mingled with them on terms of easy 
familiarity, yet never lost a particle of that 
gentle dignity which, through all his life, im- 
parted to his manner so fine a grace. 



94 OWEN STREET. 

Not content with using the ordinary applian- 
ces of education, he accompanied the more 
advanced scholars in short geological excursions 
into the surrounding country, explaining the 
composition of soils and rocks, and the proba- 
ble eras and methods of their formation. He 
gave courses of chemical lectures which were 
attended, not only by his pupils, bu1 by their 
parents and the people of the village, in which 
he illustrated his talk by experiments of the 
most interest ing character. By these means and 
others equally attractive and beneficial, he raised 
the school \o a point of usefulness and popular- 
ity wholly unprecedented in its history. The 
last day pf his school was not, as is frequently 
the case, an occasion oi' relief and rejoicing, 
bul one of universal sadness to his pupils. 




J^? ^&-c^- ' fir" /Tc^^^ 



MI^S. STREET. 



EARLY HIS TOUT. 

TI7E now turn from the narrative of Mr. 
^ ^ Street to sketch the early life of her who 
became henceforth his companion. We briefly 
tell the story of a life neither distinguished nor 
yet obscure, but replete with a sustained though 
unobtrusive heroism that yielded to no discour- 
agement or adversity, and with a bountiful and 
tender love that left a blessing wherever it fell. 
It is with a heart made sad by irretrievable loss 
and yet quickened by a feeling akin to solemn 
joy, that we lay this tribute upon our Mother's 
grave. For if her life was a blessing that we 
have lost, her death was a victory she has won. 
Killingworth — or that part of the ancient 
town which is now Clinton — Conn., was the 
birthplace and early home of Mrs. Street, or 
as she was then known, Elizabeth Mansfield 
3 



26 MRS. STREET. 

Rutty. Her father died in her childhoood, and 
she was thus left in early life entirely to the 
care of an indulgent mother, who rarely denied 
her a wish, or subjected her to the slightest 
discipline. 

Although she was the last person in the world 
to make a parade of her ancestry, it comprised 
several of the best families in New England. 
Her mother in maiden name and lineage was a 
Huntington, and through her mother, Sarah 
Eliot, a descendant in the direct line from John 
Eliot, the famous Apostle to the Indians and 
translator of the Bible into the Pequot tongue. 
As a Huntington she was closely related to the 
Mansfields, and through the Eliots to the Walk- 
ers, and still further back, two of the Govern- 
ors of Connecticut, when a colony, are found 
her progenitors in the direct line. 

The circumstances of the family were sup- 
posed to be easy, if not affluent, though in fact 
already impaired by mismanagement ; but it 
was not till after her marriage, it was ascer- 
tained that but a trifle remained of the former 
abundance. 

From her childhood she was noted for her 
beauty, a beauty which survived through all 
subsequent experiences and rendered her singu- 
larly comely and attractive even in her later 



YOUTHFUL DAYS. 27 

years. This combined with her high spirits, 
vivacity and the winning charm of her manner, 
gathered around her a host of friends and admir- 
ers. Yet though her steps in early life were 
thus beset by the temptations that wait on 
beauty of person, admiration and unlimited 
indulgence, she did not become, as many do, 
the spoiled child of wilfulness and vanity. In 
and through it all she passed unharmed, and 
when, a few years later, she was subjected to 
bereavement, privation and distress, she encoun- 
tered them with a fortitude, a courage and a 
mastery of resources, marvelous indeed in one 
so young and inexperienced. 

She was fond of dress, fond of society, fond 
of all beautiful things. Her education did not 
extend into the higher branches of study, but 
was such as was common among the young 
ladies of her station in New England, and at 
that time. She excelled in embroidery, paint- 
ing and needle work, accomplishments that be- 
came invaluable during the period of her life 
which followed. 

Such she was when, at the age of nineteen, 
she married Asa M. Bolles, a young lawyer of 
rare ability and promise. He was the classmate, 
fellow law student, literary colleague and bosom 
friend of George D. Prentice, afterward the 



28 MRS. STREET. 

famous editor of the Louisville Journal, and by 
their contemporaries was regarded as in no waj r 
inferior in wit, genius, or literary excellence to 
that subsequently distinguished man. Prentice 
went to Louisville to write the life of Henry 
Clay, and after a time established the Journal 
which he conducted with such consummate abil- 
ity, and the two friends thus parted never to 
meet again. 

And now ensued a few brief years of happy 
married life, not wholly unclouded, but still not 
darkened by any great sorrow. She loved to 
devotion her home, her husband and the two 
children that had blessed their union. Not long 
after the marriage her husband discovered that 
the family estate had become sadly reduced, 
but the discovery hardly cast a hint of sadness 
over her spirits. Her mind was absorbed in 
affection for her husband and her little ones, 
and in wifely and motherly expedients to make 
them happy. 

So her life passed on. There came a year 
when cholera prevailed — a disease that inspired 
the deadliest terror among the crowded popula- 
tion of large cities ; but hardly a dream of fear 
disturbed the quiet, healtlry village where this 
little family resided, and least of all their happy 
home. But the dreadful sickness was to pene- 



WIDOWHOOD. 29 

trate even there. In September of that fatal 
year, the husband and father was attacked by 
it, but so lightly, at first, that it was mistaken 
for a much more harmless disease, but the symp- 
toms soon changed, rapidly assumed a malig- 
nant, then a fatal form, and in a few days he 
died, commending his wife and his little ones 
to the God of the widow and the fatherless. 

Thus without preparation, and almost without 
warning, was she brought face to face with the bit- 
terest affliction that could befall a young wife — 
not alone the affliction that springs from bereave- 
ment, but without experience, without means 
and seemingly without resources , she was thrown 
upon the mercies of a selfish world with two 
helpless children and an almost equally helpless 
mother dependent upon her, and she herselt, to 
all appearances, well nigh as helpless as they. 
Well does the writer of this sketch remember 
in what a flood of grief this little family was 
overwhelmed, and how dark the prospect that 
confronted the widowed young mother, to whom 
life had been as a summer day. 

But she yielded not to despair. From infancy, 
faith in God had been an instinct of her heart ; 
this feeling had been fostered by the pious care 
of a New England mother, and now, by natural 
impulse, she turned to Him for succor. He 



30 MRS. STREET. 

heard her prayer and gave her fortitude and 
comfort. 

Gathering her little family about her she cast 
her eyes over the dreary prospect in anxious 
and prayerful search for some means of support. 
Fortunately out of the wreck of the family estate 
her husband had rescued one-half of their dwel- 
ling house and a small tract of land which 
afforded them a home. 

Aud now came into active and practical ben- 
efit that skill in needlework and embroidery 
which she had acquired as as an accomplishment 
and, till now, had practiced as a pastime. Through 
the kind agency of a friend in New York, she 
established a connection with a business house 
where the beautiful products of her busy fingers 
found a market and secured remunerative returns. 

The last two years of her widowhood were 
still more pleasantly employed. Her untiring 
friend procured for her the preceptorship of a 
select school of fifteen or twenty children in 
Brooklyn. The school house and grounds were 
beautifully situated on Brooklyn Heights and 
overlooked the busy and ever shifting panorama 
of New York Bay. She was a born teacher of 
children ; she began by giving them her love 
and winning theirs. The only serious drawback 
to her happiness was, that she was necessarily 



ACQUIANTANCE WITH MRS. STREET. 31 

separated from her family ; but she bore the 
privation with hopeful patience and relieved it, 
in a measure, by having one of the children with 
her a large share of the time. 

During this whole period she not onty pro- 
vided for the physical wants of those dependent 
upon her, but she ministered with the utmost 
care to their spiritual and intellectual needs. 
Although compelled to practice the most rigid 
economy, she spared no necessary expense to 
supply the children with every facility and 
means of education available in the village of 
their residence. 

Prior to entering upon her school at Brook- 
lyn she had become acquainted with Mr. Street, 
and this acquaintanceship ripened into a strong 
attachment on both sides, — and naturally, for 
two persons more exquisitely suited to one 
another or better adapted to make each other 
happy through life, could not have been found. 
A more constant and loving companion, a more 
faithful and efficient helper, no man ever had. 
She was the very ideal and exemplar of a minis- 
ter's wife. She watched over his bodily health 
and ministered to his physical comfort with untir- 
ing assiduity. Possessed of unbounded vitality 
and indomitable courage, she was his counsellor in 
every trouble and perplexity. She was full of 



/;i> MRS. STREET. 

ambition, not for herself, but for him. She 
criticised his sermons frankly but kindly, and 
was equally candid with her praise. She often 
supplied him with topics and suggestions, for 
her mind was incessantly alive in his behalf. 
In sickness she was the most tender and effic- 
ient of nurses, and as long as she had strength 
to watch by his bedside she suffered no 
one to take her place there. Her children 
she loved and cared for with all the fervor 
of a genuine and generous motherhood. 
No child was ever mourned with a truer or pro- 
founder grief than was her eldest daughter 
who sleeps among the dead at Glen Cove, or 
the baby boy wdiom they laid away under the 
little grassy mound at East Haven. And the 
two sorrowing children who still survive her 
have, all their lives, been blessed with a wealth 
of love so bountiful, so beautiful and so benefi- 
cent, that neither time can limit their memory 
of it, or language give it adequate expression. 
But her loving kindness was not bounded by 
the family circle. Her sympathies went out 
for every suffering body and every sorrowing- 
heart within her acquaintance. Her active and 
effectual aid was made responsive to every pit- 
eous cry for help. Her activities within the 
church and outside were incessant ; her charities 



PERSONAL TRAITS, 33 

in every direction prompt and adequate. She 
never shirked a duty, never postponed it, never 
essayed to shift it on other shoulders. Her 
trust in God was unfailing. It might well 
he, for his sure mereies had never failed 
her, and it grew more and more steadfast as 
she neared the end. With the most undoubting 
faith she carried all her troubles and trials to 
him and laid them at his feet. Prayer to God 
was the breath of her soul. This was the secret 
of her marvelous courage and strength of heart. 
It was also, at least in part, the secret of her 
rare beauty of feature, so conspicuous even to 
the last ; for it induced a genuine serenity of 
spirit of which the outward comeliness was but 
the fair image and reflection. Although her 
sensibilities were of the quickest, and she was 
acutely sensitive to reproach, hurt by slight or 
injustice, and deeply moved by trouble and 
affliction, her confidence in God gave repose to 
her wounded spirit and left no misery to write 
its characters upon her countenance. Such she 
was and such she continued to the last. All 
these qualities of faithful ministry to her hus- 
band's good, and efficient aid in his work, were 
kept in incessant action. She had an exalted 
conviction of the grandeur of his calling and 



34 MRS. STREET. 

the acutest sense of the responsibilities it de- 
volved, not only upon him, but on herself. 

In 1841 he received a call to preach in the 
Congregational Church of Jamestown, New 
York, which he accepted, and on the twenty- 
ninth day of November in that year, they were 
married. He was ordained pastor of that church 
in February, 1842. 



LIFE IN 
JAMESTOWN AND ANSONIA. 

JAMESTOWN, a village situated in the west- 
ernmost part of the state of Xew York, was 
then a small, but enterprising and flourishing- 
place, having no railroad and but limited con- 
nection with the outside world. To reach it 
from the East one had to travel by packet on 
the Erie Canal from Schenectady to Buffalo, — 
or he could vary and expedite the trip by tak- 
ing the cars a part of the way, — and from Buf- 
falo about one hundred miles by stage. The 
intervening country was still, to a considerable 
extent, a wilderness, and the roads, even the 
stage route, were portentously bad, except in 
midsummer, and even then rough and uncom- 
fortable. The country around Jamestown was 
rude and forbidding, covered to a great extent 
by dark pine and hemlock forests, and even the 
clearings bristled with stumps. But the hearts 
of the people were large and warm, and they 
extended to the j^oung minister, his wife and 
family, a cordial and generous welcome. 



36 LIFE IN JAMESTOWN. 

The Congregational Church there was feeble, 
and its prospects not of the brightest. It was 
still suffering sadly from a rupture which had, 
some years before, resulted in the secession of 
a large and influential section of its members, 
who had organized a Presbyterian Church much 
stronger and more prosperous, at least in a 
temporal point of view, than the parent body. 
There was also a discouraging lack of harmony 
and cohesion among its remaining members. 
Millerism, too, then rife throughout the land, 
had crept in and demoralized not a few of them. 
But the youthful pastor was not disheartened. 
In fact the situation, while it grieved him, rather 
stimulated and nerved all the missionary spirit 
in him, for here was need of earnest, helpful 
work, and he addressed himself to it with cour- 
age, zeal and tact. He was untiring in his 
efforts to heal the divisions among them, and 
with his kindly, patient and Christian temper 
he was thoroughly qualified to solve the diffi- 
culty ; and, stubborn as it was, he did it. He 
labored with the most earnest assiduity upon 
his sermons, not satisfied with his pulpit minis- 
trations unless he had infused into them all the 
ability and Christian instruction within his 
power. 



CHURCH WORK. 87 

It was a social community, and visits among 
them were as essential a part of his work and 
as indispensable an instrumentality of influence 
as his Sunday sermons. Thus by toiling early 
and late, by sermons and lectures, by parish 
calls and personal interviews, he prosecuted his 
calling with such success as always follows 
prayerful and practical work. He wrought an 
entire and most salutary change. His church 
began to hold up its head, became attractive 
and instructive to young and old, increased in 
membership, was kept together by the cohesive 
power of Christian love, and spiritually and 
temporally prospered. 

Nor were his beneficial ministrations confined 
to that church. He never in his life entered a 
community and remained any length of time, 
where he did not become a central and power- 
ful instrument of benefit. He identified himself 
with every agency that had for its object the 
general good. 

He found a few struggling Congregational 
Churches in that and the adjoining counties 
exerting but little influence, and wdth no kind 
of union between them. Here was another call 
for the exercise of his powers. By his exer- 
tions an association of the Congregational min- 
isters was formed, and a consociation of their 



38 LIFE IN JAMESTOWN. 

churches was formally organized , which contin- 
ues to this day, and by which each church was 
greatly benefited, the tone of the ministry 
improved, and the influence of the denomination 
consolidated and extended. 

All this time his salary was so small that it 
is difficult to imagine how he clothed and sup- 
ported his family and himself. It was only five 
hundred dollars. But its smallness was hardly 
the worst of it. It was never, during the ear- 
lier years of his pastorate, promptly paid ; to a 
very great extent it was not paid in money, 
and a part of it was sometimes not paid at all. 
The means of most of his parishioners were slen- 
der, and money was miserably scarce. For 
several years in succession they were in arrears, 
and the deficiency was keenly felt. It was hard 
indeed for him, but he never lost patience or 
hope. He never ran in debt, and yet out of 
these narrow and stinted resources his family 
and himself lived in comfort, and he saved 
enough to enable him, after a few years, to 
purchase a lot, and build a modest, but neat and 
convenient home. This was an improvement 
of his condition, for one of his annoyances had 
been that, there being no parsonage, he had 
been compelled to move from house to house 
and had no settled home. 



DONATIONS. 39 

He had, in addition to his salary, two sup- 
plemental sources of supply. His church 
had engaged to furnish him with fuel. Timber 
for fuel was cheap there in those days, and 
could be had for the cutting. Accordingly, on 
a given day in winter, all the farmers of his 
church gave him a "wood bee." Some cut the 
trees in a convenient forest near the village, 
others drew the logs, and, by nightfall, an 
enormous pile of beech and maple had accumu- 
lated at his door. 

His other resource was the f? donation visit." 
On a designated evening, of which due notice 
had been given, his parishioners and friends 
assembled at his house, bringing, some one 
thing, some another, a few, money, but all 
something useful, — the aggregate making a 
handsome and most welcome addition to the 
resources and comfort of the family. The 
evening was spent in a social and lively manner, 
the young people making a hilarious party in a 
room by themselves. Then, after partaking of 
a generous supper, they dispersed to their sev- 
eral homes, carrying with them the gratitude 
of the family, and leaving their kind wishes and 
the substantial token of their bounty behind 
them. 



40 LIFE IN JAMESTOWN. 

Their house was a rendezvous for the minis- 
ters of the region, and also for the deacons and 
delegates who often accompanied them. Nor 
did the visitors make known their intention be- 
fore coming. It was no unusual thing to see 
one of the patriarchal ministers drive leisurely 
toward the manse a half hour or so before din- 
ner, and, turning his horse up the driveway to 
the barn, call one of the younger members of 
the family, "Here, my boy, take this horse 
out and give him a peck of oats." Then get- 
ting out of the carriage he would install himself 
as one of " Brother Street's " family, remaining 
through the day, and perhaps longer. Instead 
of "putting up at the tavern," as the country 
hotels were called in those days, it was quite 
the fashion to rc put up at the minister's." 

These free ways were wiiolly new to Mr. 
and Mrs. Street, as were the customs of that 
region in general. But they readily fell in 
with them, and made their home as attractive 
and open to guests as if they had always lived 
there. At first they did not understand that 
an interchange of visits was demanded. But 
in time they used to take long journeys with 
their own horse and carriage, to attend confer- 
ences and installations, and met with as cordial 
a hospitality at all the Christian homes on the 



frEIGHBORLINESS. 4l 

route as they were wont to offer others. Thus, 
not onty the ministers, but the ministers' wives 
in all the country round became acquainted and 
friendly with each other. On one of these 
journeys they found a minister's family in deep 
distress. A child was very ill with scarlet 
fever, and no medical attendance was procur- 
able at the time. Mr. Street, who had had 
experience of the disease in his own family, 
was able to act as physician, prescribing and 
administering remedies, and remaining to watch 
their effect until the child was out of danger ; 
and others in the neighborhood, afflicted with 
the same disease, profited by the advice and 
remedies. 

Hired help was almost out of the question, 
but Mrs. Street adopted the expedient of tak- 
ing into her family a minister's daughter from 
some country home, where educational advan- 
tages were scarce, and received her assistance 
about the work of the household in return for 
the privileges of a home and attendance on the 
instructions of the village academy. 

Time will not permit a more extended descrip- 
tion of the life in Jamestown. It was a life 
throughout of earnest, prayerful and beneficent 
labor, checkered by not a few annoyances and 
much self-sacrifice, but in the main peaceful, 
4 



42 LIFE IN JAMESTOWN. 

happy and contented. Mr. Street loved his 
people, and they loved and honored him. 
He never forgot them while he lived. They 
have never forgotten him, and never will. 
He was beloved by the whole community, 
and the grief at parting from him was as deep 
and sincere among the members of the other 
churches as in his own. He continued there 
nine busy and useful years. His only two 
children were born there, and the ties that 
bound him to the place were many and strong. 
He did not leave it from caprice, or because 
tempted by a better salary, or lighter work, or 
greater privileges. The climate had never 
agreed with him. It was damp and, most of 
the year, cold, and he was inclined to bron- 
chitis. It told upon him more and more severely 
as the years went on, and at last he was con- 
fronted by the alternative of either giving up 
his charge, or giving up the ministry. Situated 
as he was, and feeling as he did, no choice, in 
fact, was left him. In the Fall of 1850 he 
sorrowfully severed the connection that bound 
him to this, his first pastorate, and turned his 
face toward his beloved New England, where 
his childhood and youth had been spent, and 
where he passed the residue of his life. 



IMPAIRED HEALTH. 43 

It was a sad day to the little family in James- 
town, when the young husband and father 
left them to seek a renewal of his impaired 
health in the home of his childhood. So feeble 
was he that both husband and wife felt that 
they might be taking a last farewell of each 
other, as he passed out of the dear home that 
was theirs in a peculiar sense. His own hands 
had aided in its building ; the tasteful flower- 
garden in front, full of its bright, old-fashioned 
flowers, was the product of their united labor; 
the rose-bush they had trained together to 
climb over the sunny back door ; the fruit trees 
he had grafted with so much care and pleasure 
were just beginning to yield good returns of 
fruit. The little girl, as yet too young to under- 
stand the meaning of that sad good-bye, mingled 
her tears with those of her mother, as she saw 
her cut off a curl from the head she was wont 
to caress, and turn away to hide from view the 
carriage that was bearing her father on his 
journey. 

Letters were anxiously waited for. In those 
daj^s they were a luxury too costly to be fre- 
quent. Twenty-five cents was the rate of letter 
postage, and that was more than the minister 
often had in his pocket-book. But good news 
found its way to their home, and cheered and 



44 LIFE IN JAMESTOWN. 

strengthened the mother for the work that lay 
before her. The change of climate and respite 
from parish cares brought a return of vigor to 
Mr. Street, which gave assurance of full re- 
covery. 

It was decided that he should not return to 
Jamestown for the formal dissolution of his 
pastorate by a council, but leave this wholly to 
the Church. He would make ready for the 
reception of his family at the end of the journey, 
and Mrs. Street would undertake the work and 
responsibility of the removal. This was a 
heavy burden, for she must do it unaided even 
by her husband's suggestions, as there was 
neither time or means for much correspondence. 
Their baby boy was only a few months old and 
the aged mother was unused to journeying. 

But there were many warm friends in the 
church and neighborhood, both men and women, 
who were glad to help about packing and pre- 
paring for the removal, and, when all w T as done, 
to " bring them on their journey " as the dis- 
ciples did Paul. 

Again the writer looks back and sees dis- 
tinctly in memory the little family bidding a 
long good-bye to the large company, who were 
to her childish eyes the nearest friends she 
knew — grandparents, fathers, mothers, brothers, 



FAREWELL. 46 

sisters by adoption, — all were there. She was 
£oiii£ to the grandfather whom she had never 
seen, and to aunts and cousins whose names 
only were familiar, but the dear friends whom 
she was leaving behind were those who had 
loved and cherished her from her birth. 

If such were her recollections of that far 
distant time, it may be imagined how tender 
were the ties that bound her mother to these 
friends of her Jamestown home. The following 
lines of farewell were written by Mrs. Street 
after she had reached her home at the East. 
They tell the story of her love for this people, 
and show, at the same time, a native poetic 
instinct, to which, in her busy, practical life, 
she rarely gave expression. 



LINES OF FAREWELL. 

That hour so sad and tearful, 

That tender, long adieu, 
To scenes so loved and cheerful 

And hearts so warm and true — 

Will be forgotten, never, 

While thought can backward turn, 
And ties that naught can sever 

Draw toward their cherished home. 



46 LIFE IN JAMESTOWN. 

There time had drawn around me 
Friendship's bright silken cord, 

And holier ties that bound me 
To those who love the Lord. 

And is the farewell taken ? 

Am I no longer near 
Those pleasant scenes that waken 

Memories, alas ! too dear? 

Those circles gathered often, 
Where taste and pleasure shone, 

Those sadder scenes that soften 
The heart to sorrows moan, — 

Those hours of prayer and singing 
To sweet religion given, 

Oft the rapt spirit winging 

To seek its promised heaven, — 

Those hearts so long united 
In Christ's blest bond of love, 

The graves of those he's cited 
To dwell with him above, — 

Adieu to all : 'tis spoken ; 

The parting scene is o'er — 
The link of sight is broken, 

Nor can enchain us more. 



JOURNEY EASTWARD. 47 

Adieu, we're far asunder 

I've sought my childhood's home — 
I'm where the wild waves thunder 

And ocean heaves his foam. 

Adieu, but not forever ! 

Beyond this world of pain, 
Where friends are parted never — 

O may we meet again ! 



The journey was made by carriage over rough 
roads to the nearest railway station, then at 
Buffalo, nearly a hundred miles away. It was 
made comfortable and pleasant, however, in a 
friend's easy conveyance with a driver w r hom 
they knew and who did not leave them till they 
were safely on board the night train which 
would take them East. Mr. Street was to 
meet them at Albany and provide for the rest 
of the journey, w 7 hich was by boat down the 
Hudson to New York. But by some mischance 
he missed them and they did not meet until the 
end of the journey. So they were obliged to 
depend on themselves, or rather on the coura- 
geous mother, for oversight and direction, till 
they arrived safely at their destination. 



48 LIFE IN WOODBRIDGE. 

Now once more a united family in the home 
of Mr. Street's sister at Fair Haven, Conn, he 
was at liberty to look about him for a new 
settlement and a permanent home. He soon 
made an engagement for six months in Wood- 
bridge, Conn., where he could have opportunity 
to rest and reestablish his health. Thither the 
family removed and set up housekeeping again. 

Here the interests of the little family circle 
gathered about the nursery, with the happy 
mother and winsome child. It is pleasant to 
recall the life of that summer in the rural home. 
Woodland and meadow were our dooryard : 
birds and squirrels made their way into the 
house as fearless guests, and we explored in our 
daily walks many a delightful haunt along the 
stream which seemed to answer to the name the 
Indians gave it, " Waupewaug." 

Another six months were added to the first, 
for, although Mr. Street had invitations to 
places desirable for a permanent home, he and 
his wife were in no haste to go. 

But sickness wrought a change in the house- 
hold. The nursery was hushed in a sad silence 
and in one week from the first attack, death 
entered and claimed the baby boy. A simple 
stone of white marble marks the spot in the 
East Haven cemetery where little Edward Pay- 



BEREA VEMENT. 



large 



company of his 



son lies among the 
ancestors. 

The loss of their only son was a blow from 
which the fond father and mother found it hard 
to rally. They were ready for a speedy removal 
and not having determined upon a permanent 
settlement, Mr. Street made another temporary 
engagement at North Haven, Conn. Here he 
remained longer than was at first contemplated, 
and his work among the people so endeared him 
and his wife to them, that an earnest call was 
given to settle there, notwithstanding his 
attempts to dissuade them from the step. 

A brief extract from his letter declining the 
call will show his reasons therefor, and also his 
physical condition at the time. 

?c Many have heard me say that I did not 
regard myself as well adapted to labor in this 
field. Perhaps the reason is not fully under- 
stood. You will allow me to say then, that I 
was separated from the people with whom I 
spent my whole pastoral life, by enfeebled health 
and the pressure of accumulating duties for 
which my strength was insufficient. What I 
have since done, so far as I have been myself 
concerned, has been somewhat in the way of 
experiment to determine how my future life 
may be occupied to the best advantage. An 



60 LIFE IN NORTH HAVEN. 

experiment of a year and a half has rendered 
one or two essential points very clear. Such 
has been the nature and effect of the disorders 
from which I suffered a few years since, that I 
can now endure but little bodily exertion with- 
out unfitting myself for any consecutive appli- 
cation of mind. I can study and preach with 
as little exhaustion as others. But the pastoral 
labor indispensable in a sparsely settled and 
extended parish I could not perform without 
too great a sacrifice of mental vigor and intel- 
lectual progress. These would be required to 
meet the wants of the place and the times, to 
say nothing of my own standing and interests, 
and those of my family. To render my meaning 
perfectly clear I will add that the little effort I 
have made in the way of visiting in the parish, 
instead of invigorating me for study and thought 
in the way of preparation for the pulpit, have 
uniformly exhausted my nervous energy to that 
degree that study has been nearly impossible. 
I require but little exercise abroad and can only 
study when I refrain from riding or walking to 
any extent. In consequence of these facts I 
have not been able during the six months that 
I have been among you to prepare sermons 
enough for three Sabbaths." 



A NEW PASTORATE. 61 

While in North Haven Mr. Street received 
two calls, one to Elyria, Ohio, the other to 
Ansonia, Conn. He decided to accept the 
latter. 

Ansonia was a brisk, manufacturing village, 
then in its infancy, taking its name from Anson 
Gr. Phelps. A new Congregational Church had 
been established there, and the spirit of enter- 
prise manifested by its members made it an 
attractive field to a young minister. A weighty 
argument for accepting the call was found in the 
fact that there had already sprung up dissen- 
sions in the church which threatened its life, 
and Mr. Street was recognized, from his first 
appearance among the people, as the man in 
whom they could all unite and who would har- 
monize the varied elements which had been 
discordant. Such a motive was powerful with 
him and was the ultimate cause of his decision. 

He was installed Sept. 1, 1852, and remained 
there nearly five years. A parsonage was built 
soon after his settlement, and the family estab- 
lished in it. 

He entered into the work of his pulpit prep- 
aration with especial delight and his congrega- 
tions were large and appreciative. The prayer 
meetings were well sustained and the people 
loved them. 



52 LIFE IN ANSONIA. 

Among their most cordial helpers were Dea. 
Carter and his wife, with whom they continued 
a life long intimacy. This friendship was a 
delightful feature of their Ansonia life Dea. 
Carter was a Methodist in all his proclivities 
but a Congregationalist in interest and profes- 
sion. He was an invaluable helper in the 
prayer-meeting, stimulating others by his whole 
hearted zeal and cordiality. His, " No back 
seats in heaven, brethren," filled the vacant 
spaces in front which are so often the minister's 
trial, and his hearty responses to the prayers, 
eevn in the more formal services of the Sabbath, 
were helpful rather than mirth-provoking. 
When the time arrived for the minister's sum- 
mer vacation, which was not a recognized neces- 
sity of those times, and not provided for in the 
settlement, Dea. Carter never failed to drop in 
at the parsonage with his smiling face, and 
impulsive speech, and say, <? Well, Brother 
Street, it's about time for your vacation. When 
will you go, and how many Sabbaths will you 
take? My horse Nancy is at your service. You 
know I bought her for you just as much as I 
did for ourselves." So the vacation trip w T as 
made, the minister, his wife and child just being 
accommodated in the Deacon's carriage. 



WIXXIXG THE YOUNG. 63 

During this pastorate Mr. Street received a 
number of invitations to other fields, — one 
from Stamford, Conn., another from Adrian, 
Mich., and a third from Medford, Mass. These 
calls occasioned him no little discomfort, for 
they disturbed his peaceful relations with his 
people, while as }^et he saw no sufficient reason 
for leaving them. 

But circumstances, after a time, necessitated 
a change. The health of Mrs. Street from the 
first was unfavorably affected by the climate. 
It was a severe trial to be so often laid aside 
from her wonted busy and useful life and her 
activities in Christian work. 

Her influence among the young people and 
children will never be forgotten by those whom 
she enlisted so early in works of benevolence. 
She gathered and organized a large Mission 
Circle of little girls, who filled her parlors once 
in two weeks, and spent the afternoon in useful 
sewing while she read aloud to them from Mr. 
Pease's monthly about the Five Points Mission 
in Xew York, and talked over with them 
methods of helping the cause. A small sum 
of money contributed by each child at these 
meetings swelled to a goodly amount in time, 
and the twofold object was accomplished of 
giving needed assistance to a worthy charity 



54 LIFE IN ANSONIA. 

and inculcating a habit of systematic benevo- 
lence. 

The consideration of health made it clear 
that a change was imperatively demanded, and 
Mr. Street decided to resign his eharge. His 
people parted from him with great reluctance, 
but he had accomplished his design of uniting 
them into a harmonious society, and another 
man could continue the work. 

On leaving Ansonia he was called to three 
different churches at nearly the same time. 
One was in Great Barrington, Mass., another in 
Warsaw, N. Y., and the third in Lowell. As 
might have been expected from his previous 
course, he decided to go where the need seemed 
greatest and the task most problematical. The 
churches in Great Barrington and Warsaw were 
strong and influential, while that in Lowell w r as 
young, embarrassed with debt, and small in its 
membership. But he made no mistake in 
following the convictions of duty which pointed 
him thither. He accepted the call and was duly 
installed pastor of the High St. Church, Lowell, 
Sept. 16, 1857. 



PASTORAL REMINISCENCES. 

TTTORDS of the Preacher, we might call 
^ ^ this chapter, for it embodies in brief the 
experiences and conclusions of a lifetime in 
pulpit and parish. 

We find the account in an address before the 
students of Andover Theological Seminary, and 
make such extracts from it as are pertinent to 
this narrative. 

" I propose to accompany you into that fore- 
seen pulpit of yours and oiler my suggestions 
with all freedom. 

You go with a few sermons written at the 
Seminary. I remember I had three and a half. 
There is no anxiety about these : — they have 
been under fire, and you know they can be 
depended upon. Nor is there anything amount- 
ing to anxiety for those that are to come. All 
you ask is a chance to take hold of them. You 
see subjects almost without limit of number 
waiting to be treated, and an inexhaustible 
stock of energy and courage, purpose and 
endurance gathered up in conscious readiness 



66 PASTORAL REMINISCENCES. 

for the task. There is something marvelous in 
the irrepressible, indomitable springiness and 
vitality with which the young pastor finds him- 
self endowed. He will preach three times on 
Sunday ; — and then feel more like preaching 
again, than when he began. If occasion requires 
he will sit up and write all night after his Sab- 
bath labors, to be ready for something that can- 
not be put off on Monday. 

About the first discovery that you make for 
yourself in your new field of labor, is that writ- 
ing sermons has all at once become something 
different from what it was in the Seminary. 
Then you tried to get up a phantom audience 
before you. But now it is no phantom. Then 
you meant that the truth should be put forcibly 
to heart and conscience. But it was the heart 
and conscience of X and Y. Now it is the 
heart and conscience of A and B. Not the 
unknown but known. Then you meant to 
keep your hearers awake. But now you mean 
to keep Mr. Smith and Mr. Jones awake, 
the men that you have already discovered 
to be always near the border land of dreams. 
You mean to get and hold the attention of 
that boy that you saw reading his Sabbath 
School book in a far off corner of the house. 
You mean that those giddy heads that seemed 



THE UNFINISHED SERMON. 67 

so full of levity and vanity, shall grow serious 
and thoughtful under your sermons. This dif- 
ferentiates the matter, as the scientists put it. 
You say, I must put more snap and energy into 
that sentence : — I must contrive to warm up 
that paragraph : — I must put a prong into that 
thought, so that it will hold. All this, and 
much more comes to you and you find your 
old thought of doing justice to the subject, 
gives place somewhat to that other thought of 
doing justice to the object. 

Still, there is truth in the first mentioned 
thought, and there are those who will be on 
the lookout, and insist that you do justice to 
the subject. Before I had been in my first par- 
ish six weeks I went into a doctor's office to 
call on a young medical student. There were 
several persons in the room, some of whom 
were strangers. One of them, a middle-aged 
man, lost no time in saying to me, ? I went to 
church last Sunday morning, and told my wife 
as I went home that you had not finished your 
sermon, and probably we should have the rest 
in the afternoon. And instead of finishing it 
you took another subject.' This seemed a lit- 
tle sharp in the presence of so many. I saw a 
spice of banter in it ; and, as I never under such 
circumstances decline a challenge, I replied, 
5 



68 PASTORAL REMINISCENCES. 

? You are entitled to the whole of that sermon ; 
I thought I gave it all ; it seems I was mistaken, 
and you made the discovery. Now since you 
know, and I don't, what was wanting, just state 
the point, and you shall have the rest of the 
sermon here and now.' It was a turn he was not 
prepared for, and he was glad to change the 
subject. Very likely he was right about the 
sermon, but he was not right in trying to put 
a young theologue to embarrassment among 
strangers. 

The wise pastor will carefully observe the 
effect of his preaching, to see whether he hits 
the mark. He can often tell as much from 
what he sees as from what he hears. Don't be 
anxious about your reputation as a preacher. 
Your first concern is to be a preacher. The 
reputation will take care of itself. Or rather, 
God will take care of it. You must lose your 
life here if you would save it. Write your 
sermons as if he who gave you your commis- 
sion stood by you, repeating the words which 
he once uttered — f I send thee to open their 
eyes, and to turn them from darkness to light, 
and from the power of Satan to God, that they 
may receive forgiveness of sins and an inherit- 
ance among them that are sanctified through 
faith in me. Lo, I am with you always.' Lay 



CHOOSING A SUBJECT. 59 

it upon your conscience and upon your whole 
soul to take him at his word. Say to your 
soul, ? he will be with me as I stand in the pul- 
pit next Sabbath, and I'll not forget that he is 
there, and it is in his name that I am to address 
myself to his flock.' In that spirit you will 
conquer self and exalt your Lord, and so your 
light will shine and your fellow men will glorify 
your Father in Heaven. 

I do not call upon you to crucify all your 
natural ambition. I say rather, give it it's larg- 
est scope. Make it larger than the ambition 
of the millionaire or statesman. f Trifles are 
theirs^— a kingdom yours.' Make your ambi- 
tion great as the soul and broad and high as 
heaven. 

Let me say a word on that hackneyed topic, 
the choice of a subject. After preaching a year 
or two to the same people, and treating all the 
topics especially attractive to you now, you will 
find yourself, some Monday or Tuesday morn- 
ing, in this attitude of mind, and happy are you 
if it be not more than once, — ? What shall I 
take up this week ; — not that the topics are 
exhausted — but I am looking now at the peo- 
ple. What are they in the mood to hear with 
interest? Or what will be adapted to profit 
them just now? Or what can I take that will 



60 PASTORAL REMINISCENCES. 

not run into something that has had prominent 
place in some of my sermons during the year ? 
Law, gospel, the duties, the virtues, the 
motives to Christian work, this life, the life 
to come, the prominent characters of the 
Bible, — where is there a thing left among all 
these that I have not dealt with either as heads 
of discourses or in the way of illustration? 
What shall I do?' r Betake yourself to 
prayer,' says one. No better advice is possible : 
prayer is always in order. But he who an- 
swers prayer does, sometimes at least, insist on 
answering it according to the established and 
well known laws of our nature. Unconsciously 
you are at that point violating one of nature's 
laws. You are trying to pump air from an 
exhausted receiver : or, which better illus- 
trates it, you are trying to charge an electric 
battery when your electric machine, battery and 
all, and yourself as well, are standing on the 
glass floor, and no communication with the 
earth. You are trying to get out of your soul, 
your nerves and brain, what is not in them just 
at present. What you want is connection with 
the earth ; — with your fellow men . Get off 
from your insulating stool ; carry the wires 
where you can get a spark. Perhaps it will 
amount to a shock. Never mind ; if you get a 



SKEPTICAL HEARERS. 61 

shock you will soon be in a condition to give 
one. But you need not anticipate that. What 
you need is contact with humanity in some dif- 
ferent phase from that in which you see it every 
day at your own table. Think of somebody to 
whom you may do good. It may be a case for 
desperate effort, or it may be a case for the 
easy and pleasant administering of spiritual 
comfort in trouble ; or it may be a matter of 
brotherly concert in some enterprise for doing 
good. If it be an endeavor to rouse some 
thoughtless soul to reflection, and wholly unsuc- 
cessful, it will nevertheless start new action in 
your mind. 

You may perhaps have a person in your con- 
gregation of a sceptical turn of mind ; full of 
self-conceit, always ready for an argument, 
who will tell you that a growing cornstalk is as 
fair a candidate for immortality as a human 
being : that every argument that is relied on 
for the one is equally good for the other ; who 
will prove to you from phrenology that a sud- 
den regeneration is an impossible thing : or, 
who is sure he can convince you that one relig- 
ion is as good as another, all the difference 
being in circumstances and education. I had 
in my first congregation one of this type, a 
physician, who had been the terror of more 



62 PASTORAL REMINISCENCES.} 

ministers than one. He was sure to be at 
church on the Sabbath, — an example to many 
who profess more than he. Two hours, he 
told all his patients, he would have for church- 
going on Sunday. But on Monday the luckless 
man of the pulpit might well shrink from meet- 
ing with him. He had no malice, but he did 
love to get his minister in a tight place. 'It 
was not till years afterward that I knew how 
much I owed to that man. Without meaning 
to help me, he put me upon the discussion of 
subjects that I should not have thought of but 
for him, and that proved timely to many a soul ; 
and he taught me, what experience only could 
have taught me, that men who are brave in 
attacking the truth are cowards before the 
weapons of the gospel. 

An encounter with such a person will shake 
you out of your morbid state, and set all the 
currents of thought to work with normal and 
healthy activity. Your soul has been battling 
in an arena of abstractions. Let it wrestle 
against flesh and blood. Let it attack the 
stronghold of Satan in some living heart. Then 
it will feel the strong mail of its panoply, and 
the abstractions that seemed like so many 
closely picked bones, and all very dry, will 
start up before you fresh and full of kindling life. 






BMON MAKING. 

Sou have got your subject but you have not 
got the text. Perhaps not : — though it may be 
the text has been given you with the subject. 
But, however this may be, something has been 
given you; and that something is, for the pres- 
ent, the central life and fire of your theme. 
Your enthusiasm kindles around it. That en- 
thusiasm is too precious to be lost. Dash into 
the subject at that point. Down with your 
catchwords and memoranda. Preserve the very 
form of the thought as it comes to you. Let it 
swell in both directions toward what is likely 
to be the beginning, as well as toward the end 
of the discourse. The text will come while you 
are at work. The introduction will make its 
appearance so naturally that you see at once 
that nothing else will do as well. You can take 
your time for articulating heads and joint-. 
Make sure of your main impression. See that 
the hammer comes down square on the die at 
last. Of course you go over and over with the 
thought- that are written down, and catch every 
suggestion that flashes out from them. If you 
think of an author that can help you, you will 
appeal to his book. 

But it may be the trouble you felt lies deeper. 
That twinge of toothache, that tremulous sen- 
sation in the back, that return of vacancy and 



64 PASTORAL REMINISCENCES. 

inaction of the brain, that strange experience 
in which the mind refuses to see what the eye 
sees ; — and that which was full of meaning 
before has lost its meaning, its pith and its 
power ; — what are you going to do with these ? 
They are nature's warning to you. They tell 
you that you have something more than this 
one sermon to think of. 

But we have this one sermon to take care of 
now. You will allow me to put myself in your 
place a moment, and tell you how I manage 
when my mind has come to a sudden and unex- 
pected pause in a given line of thought. This 
is to be in the condition of the hunter who has 
seen his game, marked the direction of his 
approach, and then given all his attention to 
his own movements, watching every step till 
he has reached the spot where it would do to 
look up again ; and looking up he sees that the 
bird has flown ; there is nothing to aim at. It 
does no good to stand there and look. Or, it 
is as if you were rolling a heavy stone ; your 
first tug at it is successful ; but it has now turned 
up to you a smooth side where there is nothing 
to get hold of. Your lever slips off from it, 
and your hands slip off. What do you do now ? 
Why, just try at another angle : go around a 
few points of the circle and get hold where you 



A HOBBY. 66 

can. That is my way. If one of the heads of 
a subject grows obstinate and impracticable, 
and shuts the door in my face, I go partly 
around the building and find an open door or 
window where I can get in. 1 sometimes enter 
several different windows and explore rooms 
that I know belong to the house, and find at 
last that I have got the mastery of the entire 
house in this way ; and those very doors that 
refused to open from the outside open easily 
enough from within. * * * 

A hobby is a great educator. You will be 
astonished to see how many related things there 
are that it will compel you to know, and how 
many advantages it will create for you in your 
intercourse with people. You may find among 
the labors and processes which you see, some- 
thing that will suggest a pleasing amateur em- 
ployment when you need diversion. The lathe, 
I sometimes fear, is a trifle too fascinating. I 
can fully endorse all that Dr. Todd has said of 
its power to break the current of thought and 
chase away shadows that becloud the spirits. 
The croquet ground is admirable for the vaca- 
tion season away from home. The use of tools, 
in addition to the many conveniences attending 
it, leads one upon ground that is largely com- 
mon to the people. It is not creditable to an 



66 PASTORAL REMINISCENCES 

educated man of these days not to know some- 
thing of the details of the most common indus- 
tries. There is a rich field of illustration for 
the minister of the gospel in the pursuits of 
those crowded manufacturing populations which 
are becoming the rule rather than the exception 
of our New England life. We can never dis- 
pense* with the processes of nature so freely 
used by our Savior. But, if he were preaching 
among us now, there can be no doubt that he 
would find his illustrations largely, as did the 
Apostle Paul in the Grecian cities, among the 
most familiar usages of the people. And their 
work-shops and engines and implements would 
come in for no insignificant part. * * * 

Let me enter that pulpit of yours with you 
once more. There is a group of young people, 
not regular in their attendance, who have no 
liking for preaching as such. You are in des- 
pair of doing anything for them at present by 
your preaching. Well, let us try another tack. 
Can't we organize these young people into a 
reading club, or some other organization for 
improvement? Give them, now and then, an 
evening talk on some interesting subject with 
the blackboard. Start an enthusiasm for some- 
thing that is improving. They will begin to 
hear you with new interest in the pulpit. Now 



THE YOUNG PEOPLE. 67 

you can lay out your campaign of religious 
work according to the wisdom given you. I 
was once astonished at the result of so simple 
a measure as this. I had made sure of my hold 
on the young people, and I gave a notice from 
the pulpit to this effect — ? I invite the young- 
people of the congregation to my house, on 
Wednesday evening, to listen to some explana- 
tions in regard to some points in religion which 
I think they will be glad to understand, and 
which I can talk about there in a different way 
from that of the pulpit. If you come you can 
judge for yourselves whether you will like to 
come again.' My parlors were filled. I took 
up the misapprehensions of young people in 
regard to religion. They came the second 
evening. And the third evening when I dis- 
missed them, I found that they were not dis- 
posed to go away. They lingered around, drew 
closer to me with questions trembling on their 
lips which showed that the Spirit of God was 
already at work among them. There was an 
inquiry meeting on the spot ; and a considera- 
ble number of those young people were soon 
among the most interesting and valuable mem- 
bers of the church. 

There is one thing more which is strongly 
suggested by the discussions of our times, that 



68 PASTORAL REMINISCENCES. 

often present a serious difficulty to the consci- 
entious and well-taught minister of the gospel. 
I refer to the demand that is made upon him to 
decide questions that no man living can decide. 
Not only within the Bible, but outside the 
Bible, it may be expected of you to answer 
questions with unhesitating wisdom. In regard 
to a great many things the more learning a 
man has the more he will hesitate. But this 
will not do. The multitude will follow a bold 
leader, and despise a timid one. I am not now 
speaking of the great cardinal doctrines of Chris- 
tianity ; — those in which the life and power of 
the gospel has always lain. To be unsettled 
here is, for the minister of the gospel, a sin. 
To proclaim his doubts, a shame. Let him do 
for himself what he preaches to his people, — 
turn Satan's suggestions out of doors, and * be a 
follower of them who through faith and patience 
inherit the promises.' It is in regard to minor 
points, such as pertain to cosmogony, the cre- 
ation of individual souls, the chronology of the 
Bible, the theories concerning inspiration and 
the like, that you will be pressed ; and it is 
better to be ready with your answer. You 
can commonly commit yourself to something ; 
though well aware that the opposite view has a 
respectable following. You can differ from 



BLASTING THE ROCK. 69 

this or that learned man with respect ; and say, 
that as he is entitled to his opinion, so you are 
entitled to yours. Be positive, but take care to 
be right. 

The next quality of a good leader is to be 
persistent. I do not advocate obstinacy. Ob- 
stinacy concedes nothing. Obstinacy common- 
ly defeats itself. Persistence will commonly 
carry its point. I had nearly in front of my 
church edifice a huge rock, unsightly and quite 
in the way. It was a 'rock of offence' to me, if 
not to others. I spoke to the Committee about 
blasting and removing it. I saw it was likely 
to wait for two or three years. I went to a 
stone mason and borrowed a drill, and pur- 
chased fuse and powder. Monday afternoon I 
repaired to the rock and began to drill it. Soon 
a man came along who said r If you are in for 
this, let me take hold." Then came another 
and another. We got in one effective blast 
that day. I made an appointment for the next 
Monday afternoon, and the next. All the drill- 
ing I had to do was about twx> inches the first 
day. The rock was split all in pieces and 
taken out of the way ; and the men seemed to 
enjoy the work. I have seen many another 
rock removed in a similar way. A quiet per- 
sistent faith in the result, and a beginning 



70 PASTORAL REMINISCENCES. 

made, puts you far on in the way to success. 

An easy way of keeping familiar with your 
Greek and Hebrew, which I strongly recom- 
mend, is to read from the Greek Testament 
and no other, at morning devotions ; thus 
making sure of at least one chapter a day. 
Use the Greek and Hebrew Concordance uni- 
formly instead of the English ; have the Greek 
Testament for a pocket companion when travel- 
ling. Read from the Hebrew Bible every day, 
and always write your text at the head of your 
sermon in Greek or Hebrew, as the case may 
be. I have found it an exceedingly pleasant 
pastime to have a class in the Greek Testament 
recite to me once a week ; consuming only one 
hour of time, but always a pleasant hour. I 
had such a class, at intervals, for years, and 
have now. I make it a gratuitous service. I 
begin with blackboard, or crayon and paper. 
Take some passage like the first in John's Gos- 
pel ; I write the text and have them write it 
after me. Tell them as much as I think they 
can remember about the word, and have them 
rehearse it back to me at the next exercise. 
When they have written the first five verses, 
the first lesson, they have every letter of the 
alphabet but four. In ten lessons they have 
mastered the most common irregular verbs ; 



GREEK CLASSES. 71 

and there are but very few words which they 
do not easily find in the lexicon. They know 
the syntax and structure of Greek sentences, 
and are able to avail themselves of the most 
interesting suggestions of the Greek text. I 
had thirty at one time in the class. They used 
Bagster's Greek Testament with lexicon ap- 
pended. It was something to have so many 
Greek Testaments scattered through the Sun- 
day School. When a new class was gathered 
this last autumn, I suggested the possibility of 
buying the needed books from those who had 
ceased to use them. After much inquiry, three 
were found who were willing to sell them. 
Some would not even lend them. They wanted 
them for weekly use in the Sabbath School. 
This, to me, was not work but relaxation. 

Let me say one word in regard to early 
morning study and the care of the eyes. In 
my college days, and while preparing for col- 
lege, I suffered much from weakness of the 
eyes. Much of the advice I received was in- 
jurious, and I owed it to the relief obtained 
from colored glasses that I was able to pursue 
my studies. I have since learned, by abundant 
experience, that an artificial light may be used 
with no disadvantage as compared with day- 
light, by simply interposing an opaque screen 



72 PASTORAL REMINISCENCES. 

between the light and the eye, not a shade 
that surrounds the lamp and cuts off the gene- 
ral illumination from the room. The light that 
you want is that which is reflected from the 
paper or book. With such a device I can use 
the early morning hours, if need be, with im- 
punity. I need not tell you how much more 
easily and clearly the mind can work during 
that portion of the day. * * * 

Our spiritual gifts come not by miracle. 
That which you have by nature and that which 
you acquire by self discipline becomes, if I may 
so speak, the mold in which God developes his 
spiritual gifts in you. Just as the water which 
you pour into a vessel will go into every cavi- 
ty, recess or chamber of that vessel, however 
manifold may be its construction, and whether 
it be one sided or symmetrical : — so, when you 
offer yourself to God to be filled with his ful- 
ness and made a vessel of honor to bear the 
water of life and the treasures of his grace to 
lost men, he will not disdain to fill those cham- 
bers of your soul on which you have toiled with 
special care, to enlarge them and furnish them 
and render them meet for his service. These, 
he will make the repositories of his spiritual 
gifts, and they will be the strength of your 
ministry on earth, and give voice and echo to 
your joy in Heaven." 



FAMILY LIFE. 

>T^HE friends for whom this book is designed 
-*- are, most of them, familiar with the inner 
circle of Dr. Street's family. They will recall 
the open door and cordial welcome which were 
extended to all who came. The invitation to 
the pastor's house was never limited. He could 
not bring his mind to say that even his morning 
study hours must be his own. He invited the 
confidences of his people, and many a troubled 
one who carried a burden of care or sin left his 
study with a lighter heart and happier counte- 
nance. He had a remarkable influence over 
youthful hearts. So well he knew how to 
gather the lambs into the Savior's fold. Those 
of a sceptical turn, who were honest in their 
questionings, he had the happiness of leading- 
step by step out of the cloudy atmosphere of 
doubt into the bright sunlight of Christian 
faith. And some of these developed into most 
efficient workers in the church . He was always 
ready to lend his books and to aid in starting 
the inquirer on the right track when a question 
arose to baffle his search. 

6 



74 FAMILY LIFE. 

He was continually buying new books and 
reading them, and he made great use of the 
public libraries, sometimes going to Boston to 
consult the library there for some rare book 
not otherwise obtainable. His mind grew more 
and more eager in its inquiries to the last of his 
life. He would spend days and even weeks in 
studying some point in an unexplored field which 
presented itself to his mind. When this was 
elucidated, he loved to bring it to the notice of 
scholars of like tastes with himself and discuss 
it with them. Sometimes it was a passage of 
Scripture, as for instance this, "For we know 
not what we should pray for as we ought." No 
light thrown upon it by the commentators sat- 
isfied him. He worked out a new line of thought 
upon it. This occupied him during many hours 
of his last summer vacation, in his sojourn by 
the sea. Another of these studies which he 
pursued with eager interest was concerning 
fC Changes in the Physical Geography of the 
Ancient Home of Man in Central and Western 
Asia." He elaborated a paper on this subject, 
with maps of his own, which was considered so 
valuable as to warrant its delivery before the 
American Geographical Society of New York. 
It was afterwards published by that Society. 



THE MORNING HYMN. 76 

In his early ministerial years much of his 
sermon writing was done late at night after a 
laborious day. This, he came to realize, was 
too great a drain on his vital forces, and he 
lengthened his days at the other end, rising 
early in the morning, summer and winter, doing 
much of his best work in the hours before 
breakfast. He woke habitually with a song on 
his lips. His morning hymn of praise was often 
heard by others in the family, and shed a benign 
influence over the day. One of his favorites 
was Watts' familiar hymn : 

* c Once more my soul the rising day 
Salutes thy waking eyes." 

Another he sung during the shortening days 
of winter, was : 

" Behold my soul the narrow bound 
Of the revolving year." 

AVhen he appeared at breakfast there was 
nothing to indicate that he had been hard at 
work in his study. The breakfast table was 
enlivened by stories and pleasant talk and lively 
play upon words. Dr. Street loved a good 
story and was apt in the telling. He had one 
ready on all occasions. He found amusement 
in hunter's stories and those of travels in wild 
regions, and he had these in reserve for the 
children. In his childhood he did not have 



76 FAMILY LIFE. 

access to any books and tales of the imagination, 
and it was not until he had reached mature life 
that he read The Arabian Nights. This he did 
thoroughly, that he might understand the allu- 
sions to it that he often met with in his reading. 
The average novel he had no time or relish for. 
It bored him. He used to say that he would 
write one to suit him if he had time. He took 
his own course with a story whenever he read 
one, beginning usually in the middle of it, 
where he would make acquaintance with the 
hero and the other characters by means of their 
conversation. He read it through from that 
point to the end, and, if it interested him, he 
then read the opening chapters. 

His hand writing was always plain and legi- 
ble. When he reached the period where eye- 
glasses become a necessity, he made as little 
use of them, in the pulpit, as possible. He used 
them frequently in reading the Scriptures and 
the hymns, but they were laid aside when he 
commenced his sermon. He realized the im- 
portance of holding the attention of his audience, 
and in order to this, he must see them and they 
must see him. So he took pains to have his 
sermons written in large and well defined char- 
acters. He often made his pens, and with these 
he secured large, heavy lines. A glance at 



LETTERS. 77 

the first word of a sentence put him in posses- 
sion of the whole, and this gave his sermons an 
extemporaneous effect. He did not give much 
time to letter writing — that is, to correspond- 
ence with friends. It was not necessary, because 
Mrs. Street was so active a correspondent and 
did the writing for them both. He sometimes 
slipped in a letter, in Greek or Latin, to the 
children when she was writing. One of these 
we copy. 

Lowell, Sept. post Calendas XIX. 
Mea Carissima Bessie : — 

Gratissima milii erat epistola recepta hesterno 
die. Beatus sum audire studiorwn tuorum cum 
matre tua. 

Spero milium Virgilii te facturam esse cum 
non multa mora. 

Graeca studio, non obliviscenda sunt. Sic 
fervet opus. 

Duae literae ab matre tua recepta ab eodem 
vector e hac hora. Omnia tuta sunt. 

Ab amante pappe tuo, 

O. Street. 

Extracts from two letters to his daughter are 
also given. 

Lowell, Feb. 14, 1872. 
My Dear Lizzie : — 

Your bright and hopeful letter came to-day 
and gave us a new start. For, somehow, there 



78 FAMILY LIFE. 

is a kind of uneasy sense of trouble and of a 
cloud hanging somewhere in our sky all the 
time, if things do not go smoothly with you. 
After I sent off the last little hasty scrawl, I 
thought of a great deal that I should like to 
have said. But the letter must go just then, 
or wait a day. * * I am j us t in the midst 
of my annual raid upon oranges and lemons. 
I do not know what I should do without them. 
Perhaps you have no such craving for sour 
things. 

Mr. Read is having the new fixture put into 
the church for the singers, this week. He 
intends to have them mounted in their rostrum 
next Sunday. I think if he gets the place well 
filled they will make a fine appearance. They 
will be on the same level with the pulpit floor, 
and on the side where I usually go in. So I 
shall have to go up the other aisle, or else cross 
over in front of the pulpit. Mr. Metcalf is 
planning for a great praise-meeting, Sunday 
evening after next, with cornets and ram's horns 
of high and low degree to assist. I have another 
idea in my head. Ask Sherwood what he 
thinks of it. The notion seems to be abroad 
that we can have nothing but praise-meetings 
and prayer-meetings. I don't see why we might 
not select that class of hymns that would be 
suitable, and have " Confession meetings," " Ex- 
hortation meetings," rr Doctrinal instruction 
meetings," "Covenant meetings," "Promise 
meetings," and a good many beside. Let it be 
arranged that at suitable intervals fitting re- 



LETTERS. 79 

marks should be made, and then pour in the 
hot shot. I have been having one of my old 
fashioned, inveterate colds ; nothing seems to 
get hold of it. The remedies act very stupidly 
and ineffectually. I feel some better now, and, 
if I could stay in evenings for a while, should 
throw it all off. We cannot say when we will 
come down, but will do our best to come at the 
right time, and, if possible, before long. Love 
to Sherwood. Good for the gymnasium. Can't 
the best points be introduced into the barn, or 
apple trees, for occasional use? 

Your Affectionate Father, 

O. Street. 

My Dear Lizzie : — 

You have been so good to write, that I am 
almost ashamed to think how long it is since 
you have had a line from me. 

It is the week of prayer, and we have a meet- 
ing every evening. My New Year's sermon 
was on the text, ?? I stir up your pure minds 
by way of remembrance." The mind not made 
for stagnation. Religion recognizes its need 
of frequent rousing. The New Year a time 
that is fitted to stir us with salutary religious 
thoughts. Religion does not minister excite- 
ment simply as a mental luxury ; nor in response 
to the natural craving for excitement. It pro- 
poses to stir the pure mind, — idea of the 
original pure, see Ellicott, — both derivations 
instructive and largely used in the illustration. 
The more you stir pure water the more it 



80 FAMILY LIFE. 

sparkles : the turbid pool becomes only the 
darker and more opaque. Stirred by way of 
remembrance. Not new truth, but old, fetched 
up from the catacombs of the memory and 
brought fresh to the mind. The pure mind is 
stirred, as by the sound of a trumpet, as often 
as it is seized upon by the truth. 
The benefits of this stirring. 

1. It is a good in itself — quickens and 
intensifies the life of the soul. 

2. It is in a more fit condition for Christian 
work. 

3. It is in more conscious sympathy with 
heaven ; can better " read its title clear to man- 
sions in the skies." Lessons of the year. 
Unusual number of deaths, and of conspicuous 
members of the congregation. Admonition to 
keep our minds wakeful to divine themes. A 
happy New Year. 

And now is it possible that I have put off 
wishing you and Sherwood a happy New Year, 
to this last page ? No ! for it has been in my 
heart all the time. Scores of them to you 
both : — happy as it is possible for mortals to 
be, and happier and brighter to the end. I am 
glad to hear all the pleasant and cheery things 
that you say about West Haven. Two weeks, 
now, is it, before you come home ! Shall begin 
by and by to count the days. You will not be 
more glad to see us than we to see you. Good 
night, God bless you. 

Your Affectionate Father, 

O. Street. 



LETTERS. 81 

Mrs. Street's letters to members of her fam- 
ily read like a journal. They embody just 
what she would say in a conversation, and that 
is the purpose they answered mother and 
daughter in the seventeen years of their separ- 
ation. Her letters to little children, of which 
she wrote a great many, were always of her 
best, in her finest chirography and always on 
dainty, small sheets. Her heart was so young 
that she never forgot the way to sympathize 
with children, and how to interest and please 
them. She often carried candies or lumps of 
sugar in her pocket for neglected little ones 
whom she met in her walks. For all such she 
had an intense sympathy. To others more 
forbidding, who had gone astray, she never 
refused a helping hand and word of encourage- 
ment. On one occasion, when entirely alone in 
her house, a stranger called and inquired for 
Dr. Street. He said he was in trouble and 
needed help. He had been in jail and .now his 
term had expired and he was adrift without any 
place to go, or any prospects. He thought he 
might get employment in another place and 
wanted a little money to get him there. She 
asked him to come in, for her heart was moved 
with pity for him. " Why did you go wrong? " 
she questioned. He replied that it was strong 



82 FAMILY LIFE. 

drink that made all the trouble. She told him 
she was sorry for him and would gladly help 
him, but it would not be right to give him 
money, for he would doubtless spend it in 
drinking, as he had done before. f? But, " said 
she, ff I will give you your dinner." The man 
was hungry and gladly accepted her offer. She 
talked with him meanwhile. In telling of it 
afterward she said, " I don't know why I was 
not afraid. He was evidently a desperate man. 
But I felt sorry for him and wanted to do him 
good. Before he went away I said f Promise 
me that you will lead a better life and give up 
drinking.' " He did promise and thanked her, 
with emotion, for the interest she had taken in 
him. 

Two of her letters to children we copy here. 
My Dear Sherwie : — 

I must write a few lines to tell you how 
very very sorry I was that ^ye were obliged to 
disappoint you about coming yesterday to 
Amherst. It was a cruel disappointment to 
us all ; but I know you have been so long want- 
ing to see Bessie and Amy and show them the 
dear baby brother. I think you would have 
had him already in your arms when we got to 
the door. But, darling, I think we shall come 
before long. The days will soon pass away, 
and then the weather will be pleasanter ; now 
it is very cold and disagreeable, and the trees 



& 



LETTERS. 83 

that are blossomed really look as if they felt 
uncomfortable ; the wind is east, and there is 
no comfort in being out. Last Saturday night 
it froze ice quite thick. Bess and Amy planted 
their garden last week, and the peas and beans 
are all up nicely, but I guess Jack Frost will 
have the first bite at them. We will have a 
grand time when we come, won't we? It will 
be so warm and sunny that we shall want your 
mamma to go out with us. Now good night, 
my precious boy, and sleep good and get strong 
and, after sleeping away some of the waiting 
hours, we shall come to see you. The girls 
have a nice ball and they play a great deal and 
you will help them. 

Your loving Grandma. 

Lowell, April 10th, '87. 
My darling Bessie : — 

I am owing }^ou as many as three letters ; 
how shall I ever pay you ? Your sweet patience 
is wonderful : for you never reproach me. I 
am hoping to see you next week and we will 
make it all right with a kiss. This Easter 
Sunday is a day of all days for loveliness ; it 
is warm as a June day. But the violets and 
roses — where are they? under the snow? but 
they cannot be kept there much longer. When 
another warm, sunny day like this comes, they 
will show their colors. You children will shout 
for joy that the real Spring has come, and 
Sherwie will count every new leaf on his petted 
plants. I shall expect to hear the birds sing 



84 FAMILY LIFE. 

when I come ; and we will sing our dear old 
hymn about " Canaan and Moses." We received 
your pretty little Easter carol ; it was just like 
you, darling girlie, thank you for it. 

Our church pulpit and platform were ele- 
gantly decorated to-day with greenhouse plants 
and lilies. Now, my dear, I must write a few 
lines to your mamma and you and I will finish 
our talk, " if nothing happens," next week. 
Love to dear Sherwie and Amy from your 
Grandpa and myself, with a good share for the 
"Bess." 

Your loving Grandma. 

One of her pleasures was to make her home 
beautiful. She loved flowers and was seldom 
without them. Summer and winter she con- 
trived to have a vase of fresh flowers in her 
parlor and usually on her dining table. She 
was careful to have in her service a person 
whose face and manner were comely and 
pleasant, that her friends might be won to fre- 
quent calls and not repelled by a surly or indif- 
ferent reception. She realized that it is the 
little things which make up the sum of our 
lives, and her careful, patient attention to 
minute details in her household, and in all with 
which she had to do, made the atmosphere in 
which she lived one of sweet attractiveness. 

Dr. Street recognized the value and impor- 
tance of recreations and made great use of 



RECREATIONS. 88 

them to interrupt the current of his busy life, 
so charged with grave responsibilities and 
cares. He was much interested in machinery 
and liked to have a variety of tools. He liked 
to have a foot lathe in all the places where he 
spent much time. He had one at home, one at 
Amherst and one at Squirrel Island, made by 
himself. He had a number of microscopes of 
different sizes and degrees. He ground the 
lenses and made the greater part of the settings. 
He also mounted his specimens. This work 
he took up at moments when body and mind 
were weary under severe application. 

He was an eager student in all fields of scien- 
tific research, but he was especially devoted to 
geology. Those who accompanied him in his 
walks and explorations of the rocky formations 
about Lowell will not easily forget his enthu- 
siasm over boulders and glacier scratches, and 
the interest he took in unfolding his theories. 
At Squirrel Island he was the recognized author- 
ity in the geological field. So interested was 
he in that rocky shore that his wife used to say 
that he loved the very rocks themselves. 

He also loved the sea, and was accustomed to 
spend many hours each day in his retreat under 
the trees, where he could watch the waves roll 
in and hear them beat against the shore. There 



86 FAMILY LIFE. 

amid the mighty works of the Creator he found 
the communnion which his soul craved. He 
always took with him his pen and paper, and 
portfolio of his own manufacture. His sermon 
on " The Sea," written during his last summer 
at Squirrel Island, will be remembered by many. 

The festivals of the year were happily 
observed in their home. Thanksgiving, Christ- 
mas and Easter were occasions to which much 
thought and preparation were given. Many 
were remembered on these days. Cards and 
little gifts were sent to absent friends with 
whom the correspondence was infrequent ; a 
comforting book to an invalid or a lonely one ; 
and always something to make the children 
glad. 

Usually one of their grandchildren spent 
Christmas with them, but the last year of their 
life they were alone, although they dined with 
friends and greatly enjoyed the day. Among 
Mrs. Street's papers is one on Christmas, writ- 
ten by her, as we suppose, that last year of her 
life. * 

CHRISTMAS. 

" As the year comes around in its appointed 
circle of seasons, how delightful the cheer and 
brightness that are brought into it by the ever 
welcome holidays of Christmas ! 



CHRISTMAS. 87 

How opportunely they come in, just when 
they are most needed ! With our nine hours of 
daylight and fifteen hours of darkness we are 
nearest to the Arctic night ; and even these few 
hours of the day are often rendered dreary by 
clouds and storms. How good it seems to see 
that which may be to us as the Star of Bethle- 
hem in our firmament ; and to hear that which 
may be as the angel voices in the air ! 

What if the stars be many instead of one ! 
What if they be kindled on earth, if only there 
be a little of that brightness that comes down 
from heaven ! What if the voices that cheer us 
be those of human angels, if only there be a 
little of the answering music of heaven in our 
souls ! What if our Christmas gifts be of the 
things that perish ! Will there not come with 
them some thought of Heaven's best gift to 
man ? What if the swiftly declining year that 
brings this joyous Anniversary reminds us of the 
lengthening shadows and the setting sun of 
life ! Is not even that glorious ? As glorious as 
the rosy dawn that ushered in the day of the 
sweet child life that brought joy to the world 
and proclaimed peace on earth. How welcome 
the brilliant show of this great Carnival of the 
season ! Welcome the merry voices, and glad 
looks and eager hopes of happy children ! Wei- 



88 FAMILY LIFE. 

come all the pleasant dreams of their waking 
hours and all the playful myths of Santa Claus 
and his mysterious exploits ! Welcome all that 
gives brightness, beauty and joy to this merry 
Christmas day. 

' Bring garlands 

Fresh garlands 
On Christmas' bright morn : 

From woodlands 

Green woodlands 
Each home to adorn. 

The mistletoe, holly 

And cedar combine, 

With ivy and hemlock, 

The laurel and pine.' " 



THE 
TWENTY-FIFTH ANNIVERSARY. 

TN September, 1882, Dr. Street completed 
-*" the twenty-fifth year of his pastorate in 
Lowell . His sermon preached on that occasion 
happily delineates the life of this period, with 
such points as seemed to him especially note- 
worthy in the retrospect. From it we make 
copious extracts. His text is from 2 Chron. 
20: 30-31. "The realm of Jehoshaphat was 
quiet ; and he reigned twenty- 

five years in Jerusalem." 

"This is the only instance that I find in the 
Bible of the precise period of twenty-five 
years given in connection with any public ser- 
vice ; the only direct or indirect marking of a 
twenty-fifth anniversary of official life. There 
is another circumstance that gives the text an 
adaptation to our present use. It was a period of 
quiet. There were no internal broils, or upheavals, 
or revolutionary outbreaks. It was a season 
of prevailing content and general prosperity. 
So I look back upon the years of my quiet and 
pleasant life among you. As Irenaeus repre- 
7 



90 THE TWENTY-FIFTH ANNIVERSARY. 

sents the widely scattered Christian Church of 
his day as living in the happy acknowledge- 
ment of the same truths, and in the same spirit, 
r as if dwelling in the same house,' so we may 
claim with an intenser meaning to have been a 
well-compacted household of the faith, a har- 
monious and loving family, making our ecclesi- 
astical and social life one and indivisible, in a 
sense that is almost domestic ; more emphatically 
than many, we have been a church of families 
and a family church. At my first coming to 
Lowell the city was in the thirty-first year of 
its corporate age. Its aspect was then, in many 
respects, different from that which it now pre- 
sents. New buildings have replaced the old to 
such an extent, along our principal streets, that 
we almost forget to look at the old. Portions 
of the city of considerable extent are entirely 
new. The population of the city was then 
some 37,000. Now it is estimated at some 
62,000. The Lowell of to-day presents many 
a striking contrast with the Lowell of twenty- 
five years ago. Let me come nearer home and 
speak of High Street Church. The surround- 
ings of this spot were very different then from 
what they are now. The hospital on the north, 
the stone church on the west, and the parochial 
school on the east, had neither of them been 



CHURCH EDIFICE. 91 

built, or thought of. The space back of the 
church, with the exception of the old Liver- 
more mansion, was vacant to the river. On 
the west side were tenement houses ; on the 
south and east, with the exception of the new 
block and the parochial school, it was much the 
same as now. The church edifice had a differ- 
ent contour from the present, the roof present- 
ing four main water-sheds instead of two, with 
two rows of turrets, one on the east side and 
the other on the west. From some original 
defect of construction the building, at various 
points, was not proof against the driving rain. 
The church lot had a very different appearance. 
The wooden picket fence, both in front and on 
the sides, had outlasted its usefulness, and 
was no ornament to the grounds : and there was 
a quadrangle of twenty-five feet by one hundred 
in the southwest corner of the lot, as it now is, 
that was not owned by the church, and was not 
fenced in, and served as a woody ard to the 
bakery on the opposite side of the street. 
Within the edifice the aspect was quite as unlike 
the present. Behind the pulpit was a plain 
wall, and the organ was in the tower room at 
the other end of the building. This is a gen- 
eral account of that which met the eye. And 
it was in accord, for the most part, with the 



92 THE TWENTY-FIFTH ANNIVERSARY. 

ominous and doubtful feeling that gained 
frequent expression in regard to the future of 
the church, which was then but eleven years 
old. Indeed but a short time before, during 
that very year, the question of disbanding had 
been raised and brought to the test of a vote. 
The scale was turned by a majority of one. The 
discouraged feeling that was so apparent, arose 
in part from the evident necessity for extensive 
and costly repairs, from an existing debt of 
some four thousand dollars, and, more than all, 
from an invincible apathy, except on the part 
of a few. The income of the pew rents for 
the year was not sufficient to keep the debt 
from increasing, and the time was not distant, 
as matters were going, that the debt would ex- 
ceed the value of the church property, and 
bring the enterprise to an end. This was the 
way that many were looking at it. Another 
thing that operated with similar discouraging 
effect was the isolated and almost suburban 
location of the church. Belvidere did not then 
reach out so far as now ; the city limits on this 
side were more contracted. That which was 
at first believed to be an advantage of the loca- 
tion was felt to be operating against it. Fami- 
lies living in this part of the city preferring to 
worship with a Congregational church did not, 



COUNTER ATTRACTIONS. 93 

as commonly as was hoped, fix their attention 
here. There was a strong attraction toward 
the center of the city. Three of our Congrega- 
tional churches are near the center and have 
the whole city as their parish. Other impor- 
tant churches of other denominations are with 
them. There are thirteen churches within a 
circle swept by a radius of a quarter of a mile, 
and ten within a circle swept by a radius of 
half that leno^th. This had the observed effect 
of setting in motion, each Sabbath morning, a 
living tide of humanity toward the center of 
the city. Here and there one was seen to drop 
out of the current to enter the doors of the 
High Street church, but it was like going with 
the minority. Not a few were disinclined to 
this ; they preferred to move with the wider and 
stronger current. Thirteen to one, or ten to 
one, was a difference not to be despised. This 
is not thought of now as it was twenty-five 
years ago. Then, all these difficulties, with 
eleven years' experience in battling with them, 
were sorely felt. But difficulties serve only as 
a stimulus when enthusiasm awakes and the 
blood is up. 

There were those who knew the preciousness 
of every spark of enthusiasm and knew how 
to fan it. There were those who said, c Let us 



94 THE TWENTY-FIFTH ANNIVERSARY 

put the same purpose and zeal into our church 
enterprise that we put into our business.' 
And they did it. Others took fire at the 
same example ; and others, still, whose 
secret doubts had not been overcome, 
said, r We will not desert the ship, or leave our 
brethren in the lurch, or deny encouragement, 
as we see them battling in the forlorn hope.' 
And thus there came a unity of effort. Those 
w r ho had been discouraged became encourag- 
ed. Those who had argued and talked the 
enterprise down began to argue the other 
way. The prayer meetings manifested a 
new unction, a new r life. The Sabbath 
School began to grow. The Sabbath con- 
gregation increased. The great revival of 
1858 brought new members and new life to the 
church. As a thank-offering the people rallied 
and paid their church debt. Then came the 
needful repairs of the house of worship. The 
roof was newly covered and extended over the 
galleries, displacing the turrets ; the organ was 
removed to this end of the church, and the 
recess in which it stands constructed to receive 
it. The walls were cleaned and tinted, and the 
house newly furnished. This became the occa- 
sion of those memorial gifts that are chronicled 
in our manual." 



SABBATH SCHOOL. 



95 



Here we have the story of the first year or 
two of the new pastorate. It is the story of 
the leader, and we are reminded of Nehemiah 
rebuilding the walls of Jerusalem. But what 
saj^s the leader of his own part in it? You 
will observe that no mention is made of how 
these forces, just on the eve of disbanding, 
were rallied and set in order in the ranks ; how 
heart and cheer were infused into the discour- 
aged members of the weak, young church, 
numbering in its resident membership only 
seventy-six, five more than the original band 
who were organized into it eleven years before. 
How was the debt paid? Shall I tell the story 
of enthusiasm , zeal, and effort, which knew no 
abatement, listened to no words of discourage- 
ment, no arguments for delaying ; but, with a 
patience and persistency born of faith, pur- 
sued its endeavor until the end was attained ? 
There are those in the church now who remem- 
ber the labors of those years in which their 
pastor and his wife were never separated. 
Dr. Street says of the Sabbath School : 
r? When I came here the Sabbath School was 
small. I well remember the first Sabbath 
School concert that I attended. It was in a 
vestry room of less dimensions than that por- 
tion of the room below now occupied hy the 



96 THE TWENTY- FIFTH ANNIVERSARY. 

juvenile department. And the attendance 
corresponded with the accommodations. I 
remember how the feeling of hope began to 
kindle in the autumn of that year, and we 
began to find out that we had a Superintend- 
ent who could lead on to something better. I 
know that I thought him one of the best Super- 
intendents in the world. He took courage 
when he saw the sympathy and help that were 
rallying to his support. And if any man ever 
laid himself out more earnestly and heartily than 
he did in Sunday School work, I do not know 
who or where it was. It was his work to place 
the school on a foundation from which it has 
never been moved. With him it was a nine 
years campaign. He rests from his labors and 
his works do follow him*. His successors are 
present with us, all but one, Dea. J. K. Chase, 
who won our hearts from another point of 
approach, and drew us very near to him. Both 
are now where so many little ones are gathered 
in the kingdom of heaven. ****** 
Twenty-five years ago, and for fourteen years 
afterward, we, as a congregation, did our own 
singing, and this required a weekly rehearsal. 
Year after year we gathered on Saturday eve- 
ning with our organist as a leader, and practised 

*Joseph H. Ely. 



CONGREGATIONAL SINGING. 97 

upon the tunes that were to be sung on the fol- 
lowing day. This rehearsal was kept up for 
a series of years ; until I could count nearly 
two hundred tunes that we could trust ourselves 
to sing without a special rehearsal. This may 
seem to some a small achievement. But it is 
because they cannot go back to those times and 
understand the difficulties that environed us. 
What we did, brought prosperity to the congre- 
gation because it enlisted the many to do 
something. For several years, in addition to 
the Saturday evening rehearsal, which I almost 
always attended, I prepared and delivered one 
Sabbath evening lecture a month on hymn- 
writers and kindred topics, for the purpose of 
gathering the people for a special rehearsal 
which followed the lecture. This, it will be 
remembered, was when we had an afternoon 
service. This effort met with a very kindly 
response from the people, and accomplished 
something in the way of improving our singing. 
I have done something in various ways to call 
out and aid the efforts of our young people for 
mutual education and improvement. I have 
felt that something was gained if the intellect 
could be aroused and set upon a career of 
progress. And there have been some instances, 
certainly, in which this has led to higher aims. 



98 THE TWENTY-FIFTH ANNIVERSARY. 

I have taught several classes in the Greek of 
the new Testament with the hope of opening 
to them the new and delightful glimpses of the 
divine thought that come through this avenue 
of study, and awakening a deeper interest in 
the pursuit of the highest of all knowledge. 

I have rejoiced greatly in the opening of a 
new path of higher culture for the young in the 
Chautauqua enterprise, and assisted, as you 
know, in some very interesting practical demon- 
strations of it. 

At the time of my installation I had reached 
that stage of life when men are confident that 
almost everything can be done. I was san- 
guine and full, of hope. My motto was 'Diffi- 
culties are given us to be overcome.' I had, 
as I have now, an unwavering faith in the 
gospel and c the powers of the world to come.' 
I fully believed that mankind everywhere need 
the gospel. I said to myself, c if this enter- 
prise fails I have still an opportunity, for a time, 
to preach the gospel here, and I will give 
myself to it, trusting that by the blessing of 
God some o-ood will come of it.' Thus I went on 
from week to week and from year to year, till 
'having obtained help from God, I continue to 
this day, witnessing to all both small and great ; 
saying no other things than the prophets and 



CO-LABORERS. 



99 



Moses did say should come.' I came from 
another state where many things were different. 
There were many things I had to learn anew. 
I took lessons at the same time I was giving 
them." 

He pays a warm and affectionate tribute to 
his brethren in the ministry in the citj^, which 
is too lengthy to be recorded here, except in 
its closing passages. 

"When I recall the many able and excellent 
men who have labored by my side in the 
ministry here, I see and feel that my life 
in Lowell has been one of no ordinary privilege. 
Marcus Aurelius tells us what he learned from 
various eminent men of his times, and renders 
thanks to the gods that ever he knew Kusticus, 
Apollonius and Maximus. In like manner, 
though I cannot stop to say what I have learn- 
ed from one and another, I thank God that ever 
I knew^ Jenkins, Cleaveland, Foster, Blanchard 
and their successors, and the many noble men 
who have shone as stars in the galaxy of our 
churches of every name." 

He goes on to speak of "the relative position 
that is, at present, occupied bj a pastor who 
has reached bis twenty-fifth anniversary." 

"As I look around among my brethren of the 
Protestant clergy in this city, I find that, with 



100 THE TWENTY-FIFTH ANNIVERSARY. 

a single exception, * I stand alone. Not only 
in the present time, but even in the past, there 
has been no one besides, in any Protestant 
denomination, who has reached his twenty -fifth 
anniversary as pastor of one and the same 
church. I find in the commonwealth only four- 
teen besides myself who have seen twenty-five 
years of consecutive service in the same pulpit. 
Among all the pastors in the cities of Massa- 
chusetts, I can find but four to stand by my 
side in this record of a service of a quarter of a 
century long. As nearly as I can recall the 
facts, I have supplied the pulpit either in person 
or by exchange, with the exception of the 
annual vacation and a very few Sabbaths when 
the house was necessarily closed for repairs, 
every Sabbath of these twenty-five years but 
ten ; and in no single instance have I failed to 
administer the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper 
at the regular time. 

It would require a large volume to tell 
of my visits to the chambers of sickness, 
and my anxious endeavors to let in light upon 
the darkness I have so often found, and to lead 
the troubled soul to the shelter of the cross. 
Nor can I tell with what deep solicitude I have 
endeavored to avoid the danger of disturbing 

Rev. Dr. Edson, since deceased. 



MINISTERING TO SOULS. 101 

diseased nerves, on the one hand, and the 
danger of failing in duty to the soul, on the 
other ; how I have studied to separate the 
admonitions and instructions of religion from 
the startling and distracting apprehensions of 
death ; to probe the tumors of sentiment and 
waken the healthy pulses of faith ; a task 
which I have many times approached with a 
mountain weight upon my soul. So I have 
felt when I inwardly knew that the Spirit of 
Grod was bringing home to one and another the 
great and tender messages of the gospel. I 
have trembled lest the harvest season should go 
by and leave the soul ungathered. Whether 
wisely or not, a coming day will tell how 
thoughtfully and anxiously I have divided the 
word of truth in the critical hour. Such details 
as these have made up no small part of my 
work. To be trusted with the deepest secrets of 
the heart, to study the pathology of the sin-sick 
soul , and to unfold the remedy as under the 
eye of God, this brings heart very near to 
heart. It has made my people very dear to 
me. And other things have made them dear. 
We have been together as a family, as brothers 
and sisters. Your joys have been mine as 
well as your sorrows, your successes, your 
trials, your hopes and your fears. The home 



102 THE TWENTY-FIFTH ANNIVERSARY. 

of my childhood remains. Tender memories 
gather around it. There is a luxury in those 
reminiscences, and there are graves of which I 
am both tender and proud. But these are of 
the past. They touch deep chords in my 
heart, but they are differently strung ; there 
is no such weaving and interweaving of ties 
that have owed their vitality to work done in 
sight of another world, gravest responsibili- 
ties borne, and victories or defeats that take 
hold on eternity. 

In my annual vacations when the demand of 
the hour has seemed to be to throw off burdens 
and rest from care, my heart was here. In all 
my wanderings I have asked myself, who of 
my flock may be now bowing under burdens 
too heavy to be borne? Who of them are 
'walking thoughtful on the silent, solemn shore 
of that vast ocean,' upon which they feel that 
they are soon to embark? Who of them are 
looking within the veil, beyond the flood of 
years, seeking to scan the sudden, far off flight 
of some loved one that has gone to the bosom 
of his God? And then my heart has sighed, O 
for wings ! that I might be there to speak the 
consoling word, or, at least, sit in silence by 
their side and bear their burden with them ! 



FOR TOUR SAKE. 103 

I have lived among you a kind of sojourning 
life, inhabiting no one dwelling long, happy in 
your sympathy when any of the discomforts of 
life have overtaken me, and happy in your 
smiles, when, as for the most part, the sun over 
me has been bright. To me these twenty-five 
years have been happy- years. I have known 
the joy and the excitement of earnest work, of 
constant study, and of increasing knowledge. 
For your sake, as well as for my own, I have 
kept myself carefully abreast of the age. I 
have watched everything that has promised to 
be helpful to the higher interests of mankind, 
and everything that has seemed to me to be 
looking the other way. I have endeavored to 
accept all truth from whatever source. I have 
taught and endeavored to cherish a large and 
generous charity, and, when under the necessity 
of differing from others, to differ kindly; re- 
membering that none are infallible, and that it 
is one of the felicities of our erring humanity 
that a man may be much better than his philos- 
ophy or his creed. I well know my short- 
comings and my mistakes. And as well do I 
know that you have looked upon them with 
generosity and forbearance. God forbid that 
I should ever be unmindful of this, or fail to 
remember it with gratitude to Him and to you. 



104 THE TWENTY-FIFTH ANNIVERSARY. 

I make thankful record of your patience and of 
the alacrity with which you have entered into 
my plans and joined your labors, without which 
I could have accomplished nothing, to mine. 
I reaffirm to-day the strong convictions of the 
momentous truths which awakened my own 
soul in my youth, which anchored my faith 
upon the Eock of Ages, which carried me into 
the ministry ; and which have inspired all my 
endeavors to lead you to the only sure founda- 
tion of human help. The prominent lesson of 
this review is — ? This, I say, brethren, the time 
is short.' The years roll on and the current of 
time will continue to cast its wrecks upon the 
strand. * The reaper is near to the long stand- 
ing grain.' But he takes for his garner the 
young also, and those of every age. Not one 
of us can be too soon or too surely ready for 
his coming. Let the church below prepare us 
for the church above. It is the glory of the 
gospel that it makes it possible for us to have 
always something bright before us. In coming 
labors, as in past, let there be the brightness 
of hope and joy, and assured success upon all 
the field ; and a cheerful devotion for Christ's 
sake, to whatever is needful to be done. Then 
he will always set the Sun of Righteousness in 
our horizon ; and glorious beyond all that eye 



RE- UNION. 106 

hath seen, will be its light when all other lights 
have gone into eclipse." 

Memories sacred and tender throng around 
the anniversary which marks the union of pastor 
and people a quarter of a century long. It 
was made the occasion of a delightful reunion 
on the evening of Oct. 12, 1882. The High 
St. Church opened its doors in cordial invita- 
tion to those who had gone out from it in other 
years, and to the friends of Dr. and Mrs. 
Street in Lowell and at a distance. It gathered 
once more within the old church home those 
who loved its walls and the ministries of its 
pulpit ; and many whom time and distance had 
separated, met together as in days gone by. 
The vestry was decorated with a rich combina- 
tion of autumn leaves, laurel and flowers. Be- 
neath an arch of green bearing above it the dates 
1857 and 1882, Dr. and Mrs. Street stood and 
received the congratulations of their friends. 
It was a time of much happy interchange of 
thought and feeling. The addresses of Judge 
Crosby and Eev. Mr. Seward, with Dr. Street's 
reply, will recall the scene to those who were 
present. Judge Crosby spoke as follows : 

" r The occasion we celebrate this evening is 
an uncommon one, to say the least. It could 



106 THE TWENTY-FIFTH ANNIVERSARY 

have happened but twice in the history of 
Lowell. It is extraordinary in its character, 
it is impressive in its relations, and should 
leave upon our minds and hearts indelible 
memories. It is not one of our common socia- 
bles where all our thoughts are filled with 
transitory pleasures and daily avocations — im- 
pressions of social friendships. Our assembling 
together reaches after things and contempla- 
tions between earth and heaven — heavenly and 
divine things. We come to greet our pastor 
of twenty-five years' labor among us, having 
advanced also ourselves the same number of 
years from our younger to riper years — years 
we are not to retrace but to increase. 

A pastor is the spiritual teacher and guide of 
his people, a source of influence and responsibil- 
ity far above and beyond all matters of earth. 
He is our comforter in trial and affliction, a 
guide in the highest branches of intellectual and 
moral culture, but more than all a pilot and 
supporter over the rough voyage of life — over 
its commotions and temptations, as well as 
through its snares and pleasures, to point out 
the durable riches and the security of their in- 
heritance. He is to point out the way and 
beckon us on, in season and out of season, that 
we do not wander or delay. His great duties 



JUDGE CROSBY'S ADDRESS. 107 

are to change our worldliness into heavenly- 
mindedness, our selfishness into charitableness. 

The continuance of this pastorate is evidence 
of mutual interest, confidence, affection and 
respect, and this assemblage is evidence of 
great and permanent harmony among us in all 
our parochial affairs. This is a sort of New En- 
gland Thanksgiving, when the whole family 
assembles to recount past pleasures, recognize 
present assurances, and forearm future progress. 
We certainly may thank God and take courage 
when we call to mind our pastorates, the cour- 
teous gentlemen, the learned scholars and faith- 
ful Christian workers, who have ministered to 
us in holy things these thirty-six years in their 
successive service. 

Three of them having been publicly honored 
with the degree of Doctor of Divinity, we may 
consider ourselves fortunate in our selection, and 
doubly so in their character and influence over 
us. While Christian culture is of the first im- 
portance with us, there is also an intellectual 
and social influence of great value within the 
pastor's official functions. All our pastors have 
been eminently adapted to associated work, 
and I think we should be grateful for our good 
fortune in this behalf. It is high praise for our 
most respected and beloved pastor to say that 



108 THE TWENTY-FIFTH ANNIVERSARY. 

he has not been the least nor the less of them 
all. 

And now, my dear pastor, I take great 
pleasure to assure you, as I may safely do by 
the spontaneous assemblage of your parish- 
ioners and a few sympathizing and honored 
friends I see among us this evening, that your 
labors have not been in vain in the Lord, or 
without great and satisfactory upbuilding of us 
in all our religious, domestic and daily duties, 
and also in those matters which are demanded 
of us in the wonderful Christian civilization of 
our time. They wish me also to present you 
with these slight offerings of their respect and 
love, with their wishes that the Great Head of 
the Church will give you and your beloved 
wife and co-laborer with you, health and life 
so as to remain with us." 

The gifts alluded to, were an elegant gold 
watch for Dr. Street, a beautiful pin for Mrs. 
Street, and a generous purse of money. 

Rev. J. L. Seward, pastor of the Unitarian 
church, and a member of the Plato Club, then 
addressed Dr. Street as follows : 

" Rev. Dr. Street : Our honored friend, 
Judge Crosby, has tenderly and eloquently 
conveyed to you the hearty congratulations of 
your beloved parishioners on this auspicious 



MR. SEWARD'S ADDRESS. 109 

evening. He has voiced their united expres- 
sion of love and their grateful appreciation of 
these twenty-five years of faithful, conscien- 
tious, Christian labor. He has accompanied 
these expressions with more substantial testi- 
monials of their regard and affection for you; 
but these beautiful gifts are after all but a sim- 
ple souvenir of their remembrance of those 
good deeds of the past quarter of a century. 
Words cannot suffice to tell the effect of your 
preaching in all that time. Gifts cannot repay 
you ; but they can assure you that your earnest 
efforts are not forgotten. 

But, my dear doctor, I stand here as a re- 
presentative of the large circle of your admiring 
friends outside of this parish. I shall perform 
a task most grateful to them if, in their behalf, 
one and all, I congratulate you, this happy eve- 
ning. We would do more. We would take 
this opportunity of expressing our appreciation 
of your great worth as a citizen of our city ; 
first, as being a model Christian man, in your 
own life exemplifying the most noble principles 
which you exhort others to cherish ; secondly, 
as a true and perfect gentleman, a really worthy 
type of the true New England gentleman, 
whose courteous and dignified bearing, whose 
polite attentions and kind consideration for all 



THE TWENTY-FIFTH ANNIVERSARY. 



are fitting models of imitation and commenda- 
tion ; and thirdly, as a philanthropist ever wish- 
ing to do what can be done to improve the con- 
dition of the unfortunate. 

I stand here, also, as a representative of the 
Lowell clergymen, more especially of those 
whose denominational ties are different from 
your own, to assure you of their hearty good 
will, to extend their best wishes and congratu- 
lations, and to wish you the choicest blessings 
of the future. 

But, sir, I am to-night more especially com- 
missioned to speak for a smaller circle of friends, 
a little band which has met at stated times in 
our quiet and pleasant homes to explore the 
fields of classic literature and to commune with 
each other about those great problems of human 
thought which have occupied the attention of 
mortals since the powers of reason began to 
exert themselves. You have most kindly given 
us your valuable time, and have ably and impar- 
tially presided over our deliberations from the 
first. We are pleased, this evening, to bring 
a humble offering, symbolizing our appreciation 
of your services and expressing our regard 
and esteem for yourself personally; and, in 
congratulating you upon this silver-wedding of 
the union of your Christian labors with the 



MR. SEWARD'S ADDRESS. Ill 

good works of this parish, we ask you in behalf 
of the Plato Club, to accept the best extant 
translation of your favorite classic, the transla- 
tion of Plato's works by Prof. Jowett, of 
Oxford, and also the translation of Plutarch's 
Morals, made in part and wholly supervised by 
Prof Goodwin, of Harvard University. We 
also bring these offerings as a testimonial of 
your own profound scholarship, knowing that 
you will appreciate their best thoughts, and in 
the hope that they may make pleasant many hours 
in your study. For yourself and your excellent 
wife accept our best wishes for present and 
continued health, prosperity and happiness." 

At the close of Mr. Seward's address, Eev. 
Dr. Street spoke as follows : 

"My dear and honored friend, and my dear 
Brother Seward, and all my dear friends here 
assembled : If you can imagine whatever of 
happy and joyful emotion has had possession 
of all hearts in this presence this evening gath- 
ered and concentrated upon one, you may gain 
some impression of the weight and pressure of 
grateful feeling that rests upon me at the present 
time . As this pleasant hour of reception has been 
passing, and I have heard your kind and varied 
expressions of congratulations, so generous, so 



112 THE TWENTY-FIFTH ANNIVERSARY. 

hearty, and so warmly given, I have said to 
myself, this is due in part to time. Twenty- 
five years is a long period for a sentiment of 
any kind to live and grow and acquire strength. 

There is something, too, to be said of the 
charitable and kindly appreciation which a gen- 
erous public have of an honest endeavor to ren- 
der a true service, however marred it may be 
with manifold shortcomings and imperfections. 
He who has endeavored to do his duty faithful- 
ly in the fear of God, is sure of gaining from his 
fellow men as favorable an estimate as he 
deserves. There is encouragement in this con- 
sideration for every one to deserve as well as he 
can of his fellow men. Their appreciation is 
some part of the present reward. 

I recognize, too, that very much of the honor 
and kindness of these expressions is due to the 
sacred sphere of that service which I have been 
called to render. I have stood for you, in some 
sort, as a link of connection with the invisible 
and the eternal : and that, in circumstances of 
greatly varied and often of deep and tender in- 
terest. There are no deeper chords in our 
nature than are touched by a service that seeks 
to aid our fellow men in the ever-changing vicis- 
situdes of life, to bring their joys and sorrows 



RESPONSE TO ADDRESSES. 113 

in grateful praise or in humble trust to Him 
whose hand and whose heart are concerned 
with them all. 

You have not come, my dear friends, empty 
handed. You have told what was in your 
hearts, not only by your words, but by your 
gifts. And in both, you have most thoughtfully 
and worthily associated with me the dear com- 
panion of my life. Together we thank you for 
all ; for this complete and generous expression, 
in which nothing that a spontaneous and over- 
flowing kindness could suggest, has been want- 
ing. And to add a final touch of graceful and 
delicate enhancement to the pleasure of the 
hour, my greatly respected and endeared friends 
of the Plato Club, with whom I have enjoyed 
so many evenings of improving association in 
the walks of a noble literature, have honored 
the occasion with their presence, and contributed 
their valuable additions to my library in token 
of their regard. 

For all these expressions coming from the 
beloved people of my parish, and from so many 
kind friends outside of the parochial lines, you 
have our most sincere and heartfelt thanks. 
Nor shall this be all. We give you in return 
our hearts, ourselves. Whatever of capacity, 



114 THE TWENTY-FIFTH ANNIVERSARY. 

of service is in us, in whatever sphere we may 
be useful, in church, in society, or in the city, 
we are yours. And the honors you have so 
kindly brought us we lay at his feet to whom 
all our homage is due, and 'crown him Lord of 
all.'" 

An editorial from the columns of the Lowell 
Courier, which we quote in part, is a fitting- 
conclusion to this chapter. 

" The bond of sympathy which has drawn 
forth the loving testimonials of his own people, 
and of hundreds of our citizens who do not be- 
long to his parish, has not been wholly, or even 
chiefly, that resulting from his profession. Dr. 
Street has always represented the best citizen- 
ship — not so much as an active participant in 
the details of municipal administration, as in 
always keeping a watchful eye on the moral 
interests of the city in which he has lived so 
long, and in seasonable words, whenever moral 
questions and civil affairs became vitally involv- 
ed with each other and seasonable words were 
needed. And beyond this, and more influential 
still, has been his position as a man. However 
short of the standard of his own conscience a 
man may fall in his own life, there is a strong 
and sweet influence in a life that is wholly 



FROM THE LOWELL COURIER. 116 

honest and upright. Such a life is more elo- 
quent than sermon, more convincing than reas- 
oning, more influential than precept. And such 
a life is that of Rev. Dr. Street for all of these 
twenty-five years. Even he cannot begin to 
appreciate how vast is its general influence, or 
how closely it affects individuals who need just 
snch a standard to endeavor to live up to. Dr. 
Street has a rare faculty of impressing himself 
on others without seeming effort, and perhaps 
without his own knowledge. He has none of 
the chilling austerities of 'the cloth,' nor does 
he ever lose sight of that position which r the 
cloth' must maintain or part with its best influ- 
ence. As he himself put it, he has stood for his 
people f in some sort as a link of connection 
with the invisible and eternal,' and like Gold- 
smith's village pastor — 

6 To them bis heart, his hopes his fears were given, 
But all his serious thoughts had rest in Heaven.' 

Rev. Dr. Street does not belong to his own 
parish alone — he belongs to Lowell ; and we 
cannot forbear, so far as we can claim to repre- 
sent the Lowell public, to add to the testimonials 
of last evening's celebration, the congratulations 
of the people in general at this happy event in 
his career. The city of his adoption is certainly 
the better for his having lived in it." 



"I see myself now at the end of my journey, my toilsome 
days are ended. I am going now to see that head that was 
crowned with thorns, and that face that was spit upon for me. 
I have formerly lived by hearsay and faith ; but now I go 
where I shall live by sight, and shall be with him in whose 
company I delight myself. .... But glorious it was to 
see how the open region was filled with horses and chariots, 
with trumpeters and pipers, with singers and players on 
stringed instruments, to welcome the Pilgrims as they went 
up, and followed one another in at the beautiful gate of the 
city." — Bunyan. 



BEULAH LAND. 

^T^HE five remaining years of their lives were 
-*- to Dr. and Mrs. Street, full of happy 
service. They realized in an increasing degree 
the momentous issues of those later years, but 
while their earnestness showed itself in " labors 
more abundant," the happy, even tenor of their 
lives continued the same. No hint that they 
were " nearing the bound of life" left its dark 
shadow upon the hearts that held them dear. 
They both felt the time to be approaching when 
they should retire from their ministerial work, 
and it was the occasion of much prayerful 
solicitude when and how it should be done. 
Their Master's work was dearer to their hearts 
than in bygone years, and they felt no abate- 
ment of mental vigor which should make the 
way clear to taking such a step as the resigna- 
tion of their charge. They watched for all 
indications of Providence, that they might be 
guided aright. But none were vouchsafed to 
lead them to sever the connection with their 
people. On the other hand, the ties which 
bound them seemed to acquire renewed tender- 



118 BEULAH LAND. 

ness and strength. As Dr. Street expressed it 
in his anniversary sermon, " they were together 
as if dwelling in the same house, a harmonious 
and loving family." But this did not content 
the pastor and his wife. They longed for an 
ingathering to the church of all who were with 
them in Sabbath attendance, — an ingathering 
of the children to the fold of the Good Shep- 
herd. This desire and petition was answered 
during the last year of their life. The Holy 
Spirit was poured out in answer to prayer. Dr. 
Street's sermons were charged with an unusual, 
quickening power, an insight into the great 
themes of Scripture, and a disclosure of them 
which pressed them home upon mind and con- 
science. He was much alone with his God and 
walked with him as did Enoch of old. Those 
who heard his Easter sermon "Whither goest 
Thou?" spoke of it as a revealing of the unseen 
by one who had been amid its realities. He 
himself said with quiet assurance on one of the 
last days of his life, "The unseen world is no 
new world to me, — I have been there." He 
loved to preach on the faith of Abraham, the 
awakening of Jacob, the love of Mary and " the 
unsearchable riches of Christ." But, although 
so much in Heaven, he kept a close companion- 
ship with his people, especially with the young, 



INGATHERING. 119 

to whom he delighted to unfold the wonderful 
secrets which Nature revealed to him, recorded 
in the rocks. But he gathered about him, from 
week to week, a company of more earnest 
inquirers, whom he instructed in the mysteries 
of the kingdom of heaven. With all the earn- 
estness and affection of his deep nature he led 
them on in these higher studies, and had the 
pleasure of welcoming many of them into the 
membership of his church before the close of 
his ministry. But not to him alone belongs this 
record of ingathering. Mrs. Street entered into 
the work with sympathetic zeal. Her prayers, 
always fervent and full of the inspiration of a 
childlike faith, were before the throne of grace 
day and night. She longed to see the salvation 
of the Lord in that community as she had not 
seen it before. She invited the ladies of the 
church to a weekly prayer meeting at her house, 
and these meetings were a source of great delight 
to her. An unusual tenderness was manifest 
in prayer and in all the exercises. The ladies 
took turns in presiding, and the themes chosen 
were such as pertained especially to the Chris- 
tian life. The last prayer meeting in that home 
was held when the beloved pastor lay upon his 
sick-bed, too ill for his wife to leave him, 
except, as she wrote in one of her last letters, 



120 BEULAH LAKD. 

to go down and open the meeting with prayer. 
Who can tell what ever widening circles of 
influence were set in motion there to go on 
eternally? As the winter wore away and 
spring drew near, Dr. Street became conscious 
that his strength was waning. He grew weary 
under the weekly demands of pulpit and par- 
ish. Each Sabbath he summoned all his powers 
to the effort of the morning preaching service 
and the evening meeting, and when the labors 
of the day were over, he felt that there was 
little strength remaining. But his hopeful 
spirit saw no reason in this for special solici- 
tude. It was often the case that the steady 
strain to which he was subjected by the winter's 
work, brought a condition of prostrate nerves 
and bodily weakness from which he had rallied 
hitherto. Mrs. Street shared his hopefulness, 
and they looked forward to the respite and 
change of a little visit to their daughter's home 
in Amherst. An exchange of pulpits was 
arranged, and they went to Amherst the week 
before the last Sabbath in April. That last 
visit, so precious to us all, was full of happy 
plans for the summer vacation when we ex- 
pected to be together as in former years. The 
hours were crowded with talk, mirthful and 
serious, the children sharing in the happiness 






WHITHER GOEST THOU? 121 

of the long anticipated visit. But a shadow 
followed the footsteps of the dear father, unob- 
served save by the watchful eyes of one. Her 
mother saw it not; and, when at last, after 
listening to the sermon which he had so lately 
prepared, "Whither goest Thou?" the pent-up 
anxiety could no longer be restrained, she con- 
fided her forebodings to the mother-heart which 
shared all her griefs, she found no response to 
her anxieties. Comforting assurances in a meas- 
ure quieted her apprehensions. "But even if 
it should be as you say," said the mother, " is 
it not well to die in the harness ? Who knows 
but we may go together?" This prophetic sen- 
tence was all unheeded — recalled only after- 
ward — as the disciples remembered the words 
of their Master when he was taken from them. 
The short week passed and our loved ones 
returned home — " so much better," said the 
dear mother — "your father will soon be as well 
as ever." With hands filled with flowers we 
saw them "go off blooming" as she gaily re- 
marked on entering the train which bore them 
away from us. 

One more Sabbath of earthly labor and priv- 
ilege, the sacrament of the Lord's Supper ad- 
ministered for the last time, a few more days 
of study in the upper room among his books 
9 



122 BEULAH LAND. 

and papers, — and the pastor's work on earth 
was done. He had written the formal resigna- 
tion of his charge and this was his last labor. 
He had determined upon this step some time 
before, and now he was ready for it. What it 
cost him to write the words which were to sever 
his pastoral connection with the people of his 
love, among whom he had dwelt these thirty 
years, was known to no one except to her who 
had shared his labors, his cares, his griefs and 
his joys. It was done, — copied in his clear, 
legible hand, folded and laid away in the expec- 
tation of his reading it the second Sabbath fol- 
lowing. The next Friday he was seized w T ith 
an acute attack of indigestion, which was fol- 
lowed by a chill and fever. Although unable 
to perform his pulpit duties on Sunday, he did not 
yield to the illness until Monday. It was the 
first time he had been confined to his bed for 
twenty years. But, even now, no premonition 
of the result came to either him or Mrs. Street. 
The burning fever distressed her when alone 
with him the first two nights, but when their 
daughter came soon after, she found them both 
quiet and cheerful. No fears gained expres- 
sion. The perfect tranquility of the beloved 
one disarmed our apprehensions. Too weak 
to speak much, he could yet tell of the delight- 






A HAPPY DREAM. 123 

ful experiences that visited him. "I have had 
such happy dreams," he said. "I seemed to 
be borne upward by some beings far above the 
earth. At length they stopped, and one said, 
f You must rest here until you see the beautiful 
chariot of the King." "And did you see it, 
Father?" "Only a glimpse of its glory, and 
the dream was over." Again he told, and again 
repeated with great delight how his thirst was 
quenched at such springs of water flowing forth 
from the rock in bright, cool streams, as he 
had never seen before. 

His illness up to the second week had shown 
no alarming symptoms, but suddenly with the 
abatement of the fever, the heart appeared to 
fail. From that time, although the trouble 
seemed to be overcome, our minds alternated 
between hope and fear. The closest vigilance 
was exercised, and Mrs. Street could not be 
persuaded to leave her post to get the needful 
sleep. Xight and day she watched beside her 
husband, with the children who had come to 
share her care. Hope was fast fading from our 
hearts, but we could not give him up. One 
night he seemed to be very near the borders of 
tho unseen. We gathered in prayer at his bed- 
side. Never shall we forget our mother's last 
uttered prayer. She talked with her Father in 



124 BEULAH LAND. 

Heaven, as Jacob wrestled with the angel, but 
in tones of assurance. "Did I not hear thy 
promise, 'Thy servant shall be healed' ?" Not 
until afterward did she and we understand the 
import of those words from Heaven. The last 
prayer, in weak but distinct utterance, came 
from the beloved father. "Thy will be done." 
That night, with its anguish and heart sinking, 
was too heavy a weight upon our mother's 
stricken heart. The exposure to the chill night 
air, which was required by the sufferer to 
breathe, together with the consuming anxiety, 
caused her to droop, and she was no longer able 
to rise from her bed. But she relaxed none of 
her cares while thus laid aside. She followed 
her husband through all the stages of his dis- 
ease, giving counsel to those who nursed him, 
and directing the affairs of the household. Her 
illness took on no alarming symptoms for days 
following. Meanwhile we watched, not with- 
out hope, by out father's bedside. He was too 
weak to speak often, but, at one time, called 
his son-in-law to him, desiring to add one sen- 
tence to the paper of resignation. This he dic- 
tated in just the words he wished to be used, 
as follows : "Among the days to be chosen for 
the important announcement that may lead to 
the close of my pastorate, there is an obvious 



ON THE BORDER. 125 

fitness in the anniversary of that day that led 
on to its establishment. That day has now 
arrived." It was the 18th of May, and we under- 
stood him to mean that this was the anniver- 
sary of his first preaching in Lowell. Not until 
the day before his departure did we feel that 
he was indeed about to leave us. Once he had 
asked for his wife, and she was brought in and 
sat beside him for a few moments. He had 
become so feeble that his mind seemed bewild- 
ered at times. He wanted to be sure that he 
was at home and in his own room, and he 
wanted her testimony. On Thursday the dis- 
ease changed its form, and it became evident 
that he was soon to depart. Then his wife 
became aware, as if it had been told her by a 
voice unheard by us, that he was going. She 
wished to see him, and also to walk from her 
room into his, which she had not done before. 
But with a supreme effort she carried out her 
desire, supported by tender hands. She sat 
on the bed beside her beloved husband and they 
spoke their last words to each other here, — but 
they were not words of farewell. "You are 
going a little before me," she said, with love 
in her eyes and in her sweet, natural tone. "I 
had not thought I should," was the wondering 
reply. "Yes, you are going. If you will wait 



126 BEULAH LAND. 

two or three days I will go with you." Her 
face was toward the window, and raising her 
eyes she caught a glimpse of the fresh young 
foliage of spring on the trees. She had not 
looked out before since the leaves had started. 
She threw up her hand, exclaiming " Oh ! " 
"What is it, Mother?" "The leaves," she 
said, with delight. Then, turning again to 
Father, — "Yes, we're going, and we will have 
our little home over there. We have thought 
about the little home we should have, and we 
couldn't decide where we would make it, and 
now God has made one for us among the many 
mansions. 'In my Father's house are many 
mansions/ " He assented with cheerful face and 
utterance, but could not speak much. She con- 
tinued, "I've been sick. Haven't you missed 
me?" He looked surprised and shook his head. 
"I've been sick two weeks." (She thought it 
longer than it was.) "Look in my face 
and see how thin I've grown." He seemed to 
understand it all, now, and said "I see." "Have 
you a message?" she asked. "I shall have," 
he replied with much resolution. Their faces 
wore a happy, beautiful expression as she con- 
tinued beside him, and he seemed to realize 
that it was to be as she said, and to be happy 
in the thought. As he showed signs of weari- 



THE HEAVENLY SUMMONS. 127 

ness she rose. "I must go now. Good-bye. 
I will come again." She kissed him and walked 
to the other side of the bed, smiling upon him 
reassuringly, — then walked back to her own 
room, where we laid her down again wholly 
spent from the effort she had made. How did 
she know that she was going? We could not 
believe her words. But she had heard the 
voice of her Lord, and like Mary of old, "she 
rose up quickly and gladly went out to meet 
him." Quietly she slept that night ; we vainly 
thought it would rest her. When morning 
dawned she still was sleeping. When she 
awoke she could not speak to us. Her longing 
eyes followed in mute appeal, and the voice in 
the other room called for her. She was ten- 
derly carried, on her small mattrass, and laid 
beside him. They looked in each other's faces 
smiled and clasped hands. Neither could speak. 
Again, and for the last time, she was borne to 
her own room. Her last desire was gratified. 
No wish found expression now. She smiled 
all day upon us, holding sweet roses in her 
hand, — then passed into unconsciousness. 

All day the other beloved one lay quiet and 
made no sign, except in mute recognition, or 
with assent in his eye, to the inquiries for a last 
message to those he was leaving behind. As 



128 BEULAH LAND. 

the evening drew on, his daughter, in her long- 
ing to go with him to the verge of Jordan, 
bethought her of his favorite song, "Lo ! what 
a glorious sight appears." The whole hymn, 
five verses, was sung. "Do you recognize old 
Northfield, Father?" A distinct murmur of 
assent was the reply. Soon the church bell 
rang for the weekly evening prayer meeting. 
Again there was a mute sign of recognition 
and his spirit fled from its tabernacle and soared 
upward. 

Three days of agonized watching by the un- 
conscious form of our precious mother. Quietly 
as a child she breathed in the last earthly 
slumber, fading like a flower from day to day. 
Monday, the last golden gleam of the setting 
sun shed its glory on the beloved brow, and 
with a sigh of relief her waiting spirit burst its 
bonds. The glory lingered on her brow half 
an hour. She had gone, hand in hand with 
him she loved, within the gates of pearl. 

"Now, just as the gates were opened to let 
in the men, I looked in after them and, behold, 
the city shone like the sun ; the streets also were 
paved with gold, and in them walked many 
men, with crowns on their heads, palms in their 
hands, and golden harps to sing praises withal. 



AT REST. 129 

There were also of them that had wings, and 
they answered one another without intermission, 
saying, 'Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord.' And 
after that they shut up the gates ; which when 
I had seen, I wished myself among them." 



A death so rare, so solemn and so beautiful 
could not but touch every heart. The pathetic 
story was on every tongue. Side by side they 
were placed before the altar of their church, sur- 
rounded by the people for whose sake they had 
toiled and prayed for thirty checkered and 
eventful years. Side by side, by tender and 
reverent hands, they were laid in one grave in 
that silent city of the dead where sleep so many 
of their friends whom they had loved so well in 
life. None who looked upon their faces as they 
lay awaiting their burial, can ever forget thei r 
solemn beauty, or that ineffable serenity of 
aspect, which spoke of a "peace that passeth 
understanding," and which seemed to reflect as 
from the invisible world, the saintly repose of 
one who "had entered into his rest." It was 
"the rest that remaineth to the people of God," 
which nothing can break or disturb till the 
dawn of that great day when the saints of God 
shall gather around his throne. 



Merwial Addresses. 



MEMORIAL ADDRESSES. 



ADDRESS OF REV. H. T. ROSE. 

Members of High Street Church, Brethren and 
Friends : On this heavy and solemn day it had 
been more to my mind could I have sat with 
you, silent and in grief, mourning our common 
loss. But I cannot refuse the request which 
has come to me with authority, to take part in 
these ceremonies. 

I have been asked to apeak of the scholarly 
qualities of Dr. Street, and, if I do so, it is not 
with insensibility to the unusual and pathetic 
fact which makes this a day of double mourning. 
But I am hindered from making reference to 
this remarkable circumstance because one's 
intellectual life is of necessity in a measure 
solitary. He does not divide his culture with 
another, as he does his heart. 

Of Dr. Street's characteristics of temper and 
spirit, of the more spiritual and tender side of 
his nature others are to speak. And this is fit- 
ting, because I speak of him only as one who 
has known him but a little while. But a little 



134 MEMORIAL ADDRESS. 

while was long enough for one to learn that he 
was a man of no common culture. He was 
not a man to show you all his heart at once. 
Not that he was distant and haughty, but he 
was of great humility and did not seek to de- 
clare himself. A stranger, therefore, did not 
see at once the richer side of his nature. But 
what a stranger could not help seeing was the 
fact of his rare intellectual endowments. On 
such a day as this we may be reminded of what 
was said of one of the great men of letters in 
England, that a stranger could not stand with 
him under an archway during a shower without 
being conscious that he had been in contact with 
a remarkable man. Dr. Street never made any 
show of culture. Yet, breathing the atmos- 
phere of letters, he bore with him, as does every 
man, the air he breathed. No one would mis- 
take him for a man unread. He had the bear- 
ing of the scholar, one who is most at home in 
"the still air of delightful studies." 

His sympathy was with every branch of 
thought and all forms of truth. He was devoted 
to the ancient classics, to the most modern 
scientific subjects and modes of thought. In 
him was a perfect harmony of the old and new 
learning, as there was in his mind an untroubled 
agreement of science and religion. 






REV. H. T. ROSE. 136 

Some of the brethren of our own and other 
denominations, who were present at the last 
ministers' meeting he attended, will recall an 
illustration of this. He brought in the April 
number of the Century Magazine, and spoke 
with some of us, with evident delight, of the 
result of recent researches in Egypt, of which 
account was given in two articles in that maga- 
zine. In a few moments the discussion was 
upon the meaning of a certain Greek adjective 
which occurs in the Book of Revelation. And 
without the Greek text at hand he spoke with 
all familiarity of the usage of the word in that 
place and in other places. 

No one can have lived long in Lowell without 
hearing of Dr. Street's interest in geology. 
His fascination in this and kindred sciences was 
intense. In short railway journeys on profes- 
sional errands in this vicinity, he has often 
pointed out to me, through the car windows, 
the signs of change in rocks or surfaces, wrought 
by water or other force. Those of us who 
heard the sermon he preached not long since at 
the united service at the Eliot church on "The 
earth given to man," will not soon forget its 
wealth and freshness of illustration and histori- 
cal and scientific allusion. On all these mat- 
ters Dr. Street spoke in public and in private 



136 MEMORIAL ADDRESS. 

intercourse with the familiarity of one who had 
pursued them for years with more than the 
interest of mere curiosity, that is with the 
enthusiasm of love. 

But doubtless his more beloved realm was the 
region of classic literature and philosophy. 
Here his attainments were very remarkable. He 
left college with a high rank in these depart- 
ments. He taught afterwards in these branches 
with much contentment. For a dozen years or 
more he was president of the Plato Club of this 
city, whose reading covered selections from a 
large number of the writers of the classic 
period, from tragedians, moralists, poets, and 
other philosophers, besides him whose name it 
bears. Of this class he was always the leading 
spirit, though in the meetings characteristically 
quiet and unassuming. He was the more inter- 
ested in these matters because of their relations 
with the language and morals of the New Testa- 
ment. 

In that happy morning hour which the 
Andover association has so long devoted to the 
study of Romans, Dr. Street was the acknowl- 
edged teacher, whoever was nominally the 
leader. Among his many published articles, 
I recall one on a debated passage of the New 
Testament, which I read with great delight 






REV. H. T. ROSE. 137 

and an admiring sense of illumination. Dr. 
Street was no mere technical ist or grammarian. 
It was the happy fortune of some Andover 
students to have had the benefit of his teaching 
during the failure of the regular instruction in 
the New Testament Greek. 

If not as well known, Dr. Street's contribu- 
tions to Hebrew study were very valuable. He 
was a member of a local Hebrew club, and part 
of his work has been given enduring and 
worthy form in a commentary on the book of 
Esther prepared by the club. 

In speaking of these things I do not intend 
to rehearse the achievements of our brother in 
the department of letters, for much of the ser- 
vice of this kind he has done, was rendered 
before my personal acquaintance with him 
began, and I say these things by report. But 
I seek to indicate the wide range of his acquire- 
ments. It were not true, however, to conclude 
that this breadth was secured at the cost of 
thoroughness of culture. On the contrary, his 
learning rested on a substantial basis. He was 
too honest to slight his work, too sincere to pre- 
tend in anything. It was his habit to utter 
only fully formed convictions. If on any sub- 
ject he had not made up his mind, he could 
wait before he spoke. He was a scholar not by 
10 



138 MEMORIAL ADDRESS. 

accident, but by heredity and destiny. He 
was born to these pursuits. His training in 
youth was as thorough as the times offered. 
He was a conscientious student from the begin- 
ning. He put work to his tasks. His learn- 
ing was not superficial or showy. He went to 
the roots of things, and, if not to the end of the 
roots, it was because the roots of things have no 
end. But he was impatient of impatience in 
study, and intolerant of pretence. 

He was himself one of the most unpretend- 
ing men. He never boasted of any of his work. 
He let another take the honor. He was not 
after applause. He courted affection but not 
fame. He did not seek a reputation for learn- 
ing. If his sermons were those of a scholar it 
was because a scholar made them. But no one 
could look into his face and suspect him of 
artifice, so gentle he was, so courteous in bear- 
ing, so refined in manner. A gentleman by 
instinct, touched and adorned with culture. 

Above all, he was a man sincerely religious, 
and his attainments were all devoted to the ser- 
vice of the faith. All his classical and scien- 
tific studies led him into reverence and belief. 
On his books lay the shadow of the cross. 
One had discovered him to be a thinker as 
soon as he spoke, and he had hardly discovered 



REV. SMITH BAKER. 139 

him to be a thinker, before he knew him to be a 
Christian as well. He was a scholar, and that 
meant for him that he was a teacher. He found 
the truth everywhere filled with God, and 
spoke it thus again. Those, who for so many 
years have been privileged to have him for a 
pastor, have ever found his intellect glowing 
with love and Christian feeling. We have lost 
a beloved teacher, a man of rare attainments, 
sweet character and good name. A revered, 
consecrated, gracious spirit, he has doubtless 
found a welcome where he has gone, as a man 
greatly beloved. 



ADDRESS OF REV. SMITH BAKER. 

The family, the church, the ministry and the 
city are all mourners at the death of Dr. Street. 
However much we admire his culture, that 
which still more impresses us, is the completeness 
of his manhood. His rounded character, which 
in its dignity grew more beautiful as the years 
passed away, has made the deepest impression 
upon this community and, because of it, he will 
be longest remembered. Few men are so 
endowed by nature, or cultured by grace, with 
such a blending of virtues. He had not a few 
strong points and many weak ones, or a few 



140 MEMORIAL ADDRESS. 

weak ones, and many strong ones, but an even- 
ness of nature which, like the the onward flow 
of an ocean-bound river, grew wider, deeper 
and stronger the longer he lived. 

Sometimes it seemed to us he was not troubled 
with contending passions as other men are, but 
those who knew him best saw that the calm 
dignity of his life was not the absence of strong 
feeling, but the power of a firm, spiritualized 
will. This decision of character was seen not 
only in an almost perfect self-control, but in an 
unyielding fidelity to his convictions upon all 
questions of belief and duty. He was a con- 
scientious man not only in the common ques- 
tions of morality, but in the higher realms of 
thought and in the small and delicate relations 
of social life. He was the same man in all 
places and at all times, in the reception of friends 
at home, in his relations with his brethren of 
the ministry, in occasions of social gathering, 
among men in the discussion of questions of 
national interest, and in the private and public 
ministrations of his office as a preacher. 

With all this calm, firm dignity of manner and 
character, there was a tenderness of heart and 
grace of manner which was the charm of his 
intercourse with men. Without sternness, or 
coldness, there was a gentle nobleness which 



BE V. SMITH BAKER. 141 

won both love and respect. He was so firm, 
so kind, so cautious, so sincere, so real, so ten- 
der, so pure, so wise and so spiritual, that in the 
thought of the community he became the ideal 
"Christian gentleman." To those of us who 
knew him, he seemed the Ten Commandments 
and the Beautitudes incarnate. His life was 
a living sermon, which, like the harmony of 
great music, grew deeper and sweeter unto the 
end. His silent presence was a constant humil- 
iation to those living in sin and an inspiration 
to those seeking God. The frequent words 
heard from the people during the past few days 
are more eloquent than any that I can speak ; 
such as "He was a good man," "He was a real 
man," "He was a true man," "He was gold 
all the way through," "He was a saint," Such 
the eulogy which his own life wrote upon the 
hearts of the community in which he lived. 

But this man had more than the worth of a 
rounded private character, other than superior 
excellence in the profession which he adorned ; 
he was in the best manner a Christian citizen, 
a man among men, not in the light and trifling 
sense of merely social life, but in the true, 
broad and high meaning of intelligent, active 
participation in whatever pertained to the com- 
mercial, social, educational and moral, as well 
as spiritual interests of the city and state. 



142 MEMORIAL ADDRESS. 

More than most men of his profession he was 
a careful reader and observer of present history. 
He was a student of events as well as of ideas. 
Our mills, our banks, our stores and the daity 
toil of men had his thoughts, his sympathy and 
attention. I need not say that everything 
which pertained to the educational interests of 
the people, from the lowest and humblest be- 
ginnings out and up into every department of 
pure and high culture, had a warm, generous 
place in his heart and toil. 

His services in connection with our public 
schools will long be remembered as among the 
most faithful, progressive, wise and useful with 
which the city has ever been honored. But 
more still in his unofficial capacity has he done 
as much, if not more than any other one citizen 
to awaken and encourage mental culture among 
the people. There are many young men and 
young women, some of them here this afternoon, 
who shed their tears of affection and gratitude 
at the remembrance of the sympathetic helpful- 
ness which came from him in their struggles 
for greater intelligence and a higher education. 
Doubtless the much larger and most useful part 
of his work in this direction was done through 
the inspiration of his private personal sympa- 
thies. As a citizen, in the reforms of social life, 



RE V. SMITH BAKER. 143 

no man's position was purer, broader, stronger. 
Cautious and thoughtful, he never went so 
far as to injure his influence, on the one hand, 
and never permittted a doubt as to what his 
convictions were, on the other hand. Calmly, 
clearly and fearlessly, he made himself and 
his pulpit a living, burning protest against 
financial and political dishonesty, against intem- 
perance and all associated vices. It is no dis- 
paragement to the words or works of others to 
say that the boldest, completest arguments 
upon the temperance question which this city 
has known were spoken by his lips from this 
desk. Such the calmness, clearness, thorough- 
ness and intensity of his utterances, that, when 
they did not change men, they educated and 
awakened thought. Thus, though never a 
fanatic, and never timidly following in the 
rear of progression, he independently, intel- 
ligently and fearlessly, asserted his opinions and 
claimed his rights as a man, a citizen and a 
servant of God. 

As a preacher, both his scholarship and his 
character revealed themselves, of which no 
greater evidence is needed than the fact of a 
thirty years' pastorate in a pulpit like this. 
His sermons were like himself, accurate, sincere, 
tender and humble. He treated the Bible as 



144 MEMORIAL ADDRESS. 

the Word of God, with reverence, love and 
faith. He honored the pulpit with the results 
of an industrious brain and a believing heart. 
But there are many this afternoon who think 
principally of him as friend and pastor. He 
was neither cold and distant, on the one hand, 
nor demonstrative, on the other, but artless, 
loving and true. The more you saw of his 
heart, the larger and warmer you found it to 
be. A man of keenest professional honor, who 
never betrayed a friend or wronged a foe, 
gentle in his criticisms and differing from you 
so kindly that if possible you loved him all the 
more, he was a born peace-maker. It seemed 
to be one of the studies of life how to be at 
peace with all men. Not that there was any 
foolish seeking of favor with men, his Puritan 
character was free from the least of that, but he 
had such a delicate sense of propriety in all 
things that it seemed impossible for him to be 
rude in deed, word or manner. He was a true, 
affectionate and wise brother and father in the 
ministry, never intruding into another's work, 
but, with an open heart for another's sorrows, a 
charity for another's mistakes, an appreciation 
for another's merits and a congratulation for 
another's successes, he was a delightful, helpful 
colleague. 






REV. SMITH BAKER. 146 

As a pastor, his example was faultless, his 
words wise, his sympathies warm. He loved 
his people. To have lived after his resignation 
would have been a constant sorrow. He was 
sensitive to their loyalty and their attentions, 
and their trials burdened him. Many of them 
never knew what a wealth of affection they 
possessed in him until trouble came to their 
homes, and then they discovered the fountain 
of sympathy which overflowed in his heart. 
His presence at the bedside of the dying, in 
homes of sorrow and from house to house was a 
living benediction. 

How few who greeted him thirty years ago 
are here to-day to weep at his departure ! Many 
of them who loved him with a deep, strong 
affection, went before him into the eternal home 
and are greeting him now. Many of those who 
remain are just beginning to realize how 
much they loved him, and, as the flowers 
bloom upon his grave, affectionate memories 
will grow deeper and sweeter. 

Of what he was in the sacredness of the home, 
as husband and father, I will not presume to 
speak, but we know that the same affectionate, 
spiritual benignity characterized him there as 
elsewhere. 



146 MEMORIAL ADDRESS. 

Not only the family who loved, revered and 
honored him as a father, not only we who 
loved him personally as a brother and father in 
the sacred office of the ministry, not only this 
church to whom he ministered so long and 
faithfully, but this city can ill afford to lose so 
affectionate a father, so true a preacher, so wise 
a pastor, so noble a man, so complete a citizen, 
so rounded a Christian. How great his life 
rises before us, broad in culture, deep in sym- 
pathy, strong in conviction, active in usefulness, 
sweet in spirit and ripe in years ! 

Thus we lay our wreaths upon his grave and 
look for the last time upon his visible face, but 
there will ever be in our memories the picture 
of the man of God, who had fought the good 
fight, gained the victory and received his 
crown full of stars, and, as we weep over his 
face, we can only say, "O my father, my 
father, the chariot of Israel and the horsemen 
thereof." 



REV. DR. J. M. GREENE. 147 

ADDRESS OF REV. DR. J. M. GREENE. 

There are times when silence is more eloquent 
than words, and tears are the best utterance of 
the heart. Were I to follow the impulse of my 
feelings, I should sit down in this place so 
sacred to the memory of the dear ones whose 
remains lie before us, and utter not a word. I 
feel as the Psalmist did when he said, "I was 
dumb ; I opened not my mouth ; because thou 
didst it." Yes, God, our all -loving Heavenly 
Father, has done this, and we should not only 
be submissive, but even praise his holy name. 

The part assigned me in these solemn ser- 
vices — services in which God speaks much 
louder than man — is the delicate one of instanc- 
ing some of the characteristic traits of her who, 
for more than forty-five years, was the beloved 
wife and faithful helper of the good and strong 
man who has fallen in our city. 

It is of her life here that I would particularly 
speak. It is a rare combination of qualities 
which make up the successful minister's wife. I 
verily believe that, difficult as is the minister's 
position, the minister's wife holds a more diffi- 
cult one. Consequently, greater is the honor if 
a sensitive woman can take that office, perform 
its duties faithfully, and yet win and hold the 



148 MEMORIAL ADDRESS. 

love, esteem and confidence of a large church 
and people. 

A commendable trait in Mrs. Street's charac- 
ter was her childlike faith. This was prominent 
and beautiful. She believed that the Spirit of 
God suggested to her mind divine promises suit- 
ed to occasions of trial and perplexity, and she 
rested on such promises with the implicit con- 
fidence of a litttle child in the word of a father. 
Her faith was simple, unmixed with fear or 
doubt, and carried with it her whole soul. God 
was not to her a Being afar off, but he was ever 
?? a very present help," ready to guide, strength- 
en and comfort. 

Yet there was nothing extravagant or vagar- 
ious about her faith. It led her into no con- 
ceits, no disparagement of the use of means, 
no spiritual pride. It was such a faith as we 
all ought to have, and should have if we walked 
with God as closely as she did. 

The Bible was a great delight to her. It 
was a storehouse of God's promises, and she 
went there for food to satisfy her hungry soul. 
There was no book of devotion which was so 
precious to her as the Bible. She once said to 
me, " I used to read Thomas a Kempis's Im- 
itation of Christ, Edwards on the Affections, 
and other such books ; but I have come 



REV. DR. J. M. GREENE. 149 

now to read almost wholly my Bible. There 
I get the gold without any alloy." That is a 
good thought and it discloses both the depth 
and strength of her faith and the maturity 
of her Christian experience. 

She was a prayerful woman. To her prayer 
was not a ceremony, a repetition of words, but 
a communion and fellowship of her soul with 
the great and living God. Her spirit met the 
Infinite Spirit as a person and talked with him. 
She knew how to carry her burdens to the 
Lord in prayer and receive from him that 
strength and encouragement which can come 
only from above. I asked Dr. Street once 
from what earthly sources he derived the most 
encouragement in his ministerial work. He 
replied, "From my wife's prayers; she prays 
as if she was personally acquainted with God. 
Her prayers have cheered and inspired my 
soul many a time." That is a noble testimony 
for a man of rare faith himself to give. He 
could teach her many things which he had read 
in learned tomes, or which he had himself with 
keen eyes deciphered on the scroll of nature, or 
had forged out on his great anvil of thought ; 
but he was a willing pupil at her feet in simple 
faith and in soul-communing prayer. 



ISO MEMORIAL ADDRESS. 

She believed in social prayer. She was in- 
strumental in the establishment of the ladies' 
weekly prayer meeting at the parsonage, two 
years ago, which was well attended and doubtless 
contributed much to the bringing of the great 
spiritual harvest among the young which has of 
late filled your hearts with so much gladness. 
She was the life of that meeting, I am told. 
Surely nothing could be so pleasing to her, now 
in the world of light and glory, as to know that 
her dear co-workers in that praying circle are 
continuing a means of grace which has borne 
such precious fruit. She was also early the 
prime mover in a young ladies' prayer meet- 
ing among you, and in a mothers' meeting, both 
of which were continued till the fatal illness of 
her husband and her own illness three weeks 
ago discontinued them. 

Intimately connected with this, also, was her 
work in the Sunday school. Very soon after 
she came to you, she collected a class of young 
women, non-church-goers, into a Sunday school 
class, and had continued as the teacher of it 
for almost thirty years. It has changed much 
as the population of the city has changed. The 
last four years it has consisted more of adult 
Christian women who have loved to listen to 
her wise explanations of the word of God be- 



REV. DR. J. M. GREENE. 151 

cause they were helped by them. No one 
here can tell how many scores of women during 
the thirty years have been her pupils in these 
classes and have been made w T iser, holier and 
happier by her instructions. 

Her sympathy with the sick, the sorrowing 
and the poor, was another marked trait in Mrs. 
Street's character. She has been into your 
homes, when affliction has entered, as a sweet 
angel from above and comforted you by her 
presence as well as by her words. When she 
could not visit you in person you have received 
a kind note assuring you of her love, her sym- 
pathy and prayers. Her heart was large 
enough to take in all her dear people. No one 
was so poor as to be neglected by her ; no one 
so rich as not to need the consolations which 
she could give. She has been among you as a 
ministering spirit from the very throne of God. 
She has loved this church and its people. She 
has given her whole heart to you; yes, her 
whole life to you. 

But time will not allow me to say all that I 
might with regard to her who for thirty years 
has been your friend and helper, as a faithful 
pastor's wife. 

I might saj r that as a mother she has been as 
faithful and true as she was in her more public 



162 MEMORIAL ADDRESS. 

duties. She has cared well for her children. 
They to-day "rise up and call her blessed." She 
instructed them, guided them, and has been a 
safe example for them to follow. She has not 
neglected her home for public duties, but, by 
the grace and strength given her, she has cared 
for her home, and the parish too. 

She had courage enough to supply the gen- 
eral of an army. Whatever was duty must be 
grappled with and carried through to the end. 
She had no sympathy with whining or with 
cowardice in any of its forms. She was full 
of buoyancy and hope herself, because she had 
great faith in God, and she did much to inspire 
others with the same. 

This is the first day of June. Just one monjh 
ago, May 1st, our dear brother stood in this 
place and preached a sermon, and his dear wife, 
our sister, sat in the pew and heard it. What 
a change in one short month ! Yet how beauti- 
ful the thought that these two faithful servants 
of the Lord have entered their heavenly rest 
so near together ! Together they have borne 
the cross here, together they wear the crown 
and walk on the banks of the river of the 
water of life there. 



REV. DR. J. M. GREENE. 153 

FROM A MEMORIAL SERMON BY REV. DR. 
J. M. GREENE, 

No one could have seen Dr. Street, only for 
a short time, without being made to feel that 
he was a very king among men in the spirit 
which reigned in his breast. He harbored ill- 
will towards no one. Another's success kindled 
in his heart only feelings of joy . Humility shone 
like a diamond in the forefront of his virtues. 
He was simple as a child, and as honest as 
truth itself. There was no guile in his spirit, 
no duplicity in his word or manner. He was 
courteous, without insincerity. He was frank, 
without bluntness. For truth's sake he might 
oppose you, yet his opposition never wounded. 
There was such a fire of love burning in his 
soul that his words, deeds, spirit, manner were 
all aglow with genuine goodwill. This excel- 
lence of spirit appeared in everything. It 
caused Dr. Street to be a true friend. He 
never betrayed confidence put in him, he never, 
for selfish ends, misled you by his advice. When 
you had won his esteem and affection, he was 
as loyal to j 7 ou as the needle to the pole. You 
saw it and felt it also in his sermons and 
addresses, in his prayers and conversations, 
11 



154 MEMORIAL SERMON. 

and in his letters and attacks upon vice, crime 
and sin. He spoke plainly, but kindly ; forci- 
bly, but advisedly; with determination, but 
without anger or malice. He was a man of 
decided Christian character. He had the cour- 
age of his convictions. You knew where he 
stood on great and important questions. If you 
had a keen sense of right and wrong, you could 
tell beforehand on which side of a matter you 
would find him. The cause of education found 
in him a staunch friend. He gave his time for 
eight years to the duties of the school commit- 
tee in this city, and no more helpful member 
was ever on the board. He encouraged the 
enlargement and the free use of the city library, 
for jjj is a means of educating the people. He 
attended a session of the summer classes at 
Chautauqua, and returned to this city and estab- 
lished here those literary and scientific circles, 
people's colleges, which have been such a bless- 
ing to a large number of young men and young 
women. He taught Greek to private pupils 
and to public classes, free of charge. He orga- 
nized clubs of learned men and women, and 
presided over them with the dignity and erudi- 
tion of a college president, and thus taught the 
teachers of the city. He was born to be a 
teacher, and he would use his gift in any place 



REV. DR. J. M. GREENE. 156 

where he could by intelligence cure the disease 
of ignorance. He prepared lectures and read 
them as occasion offered ; or he would, on mat- 
ters of science, talk, illustrating his remarks by 
specimens of his own collecting. And he never 
failed to interest and instruct his hearers. 

Parallel with this, was his interest in the 
moral, social and political interests of our city. 
The cause of temperance found in him one of 
its warmest friends and boldest advocates. He 
was always ready with a red-hot shot to fire 
into the camp of the advocates of the saloon, 
of license, or of the liquor traffic in any form. 
No one struck harder blows, nor more of them, 
than he, on the head of the monster Hum. One 
of Dr. Street's college classmates, Rev. L. 
Smith Hobart, of Springfield, Mass., writes me : 
"I remember his inviting me while we were in 
college to go over to East Haven, and deliver 
an address on temperance to the young people 
of the village. When we reached there in the 
early evening, a large audience was gathered, 
through his efforts, to hear. This was a sam- 
ple of his ways of doing good." It is evident 
from this that the subject of temperance, early 
in life, engaged the attention and enlisted the 
services of this friend of the people. 



166 [MEMORIAL SERMON. 

His voice was equally loud and clear in behalf 
of a holy Sabbath. He ever claimed that the 
Lord's day should be kept sacred for rest and 
worship, and be freed from the desecration of 
needless toil and dissipating sports. He spoke 
out plainly, also, for purity of life, for honesty 
in business, and for integrity of character every- 
where. He went to the polls and voted for all 
the officers of the city, state and nation, as he 
thought that every good citizen should. He 
felt a deep interest in the poor and unfortunate 
classes, and devised plans for their improvement 
and elevation. 

To Dr. Street and Judge Nathan Crosby 
belongs the honor of founding the French Prot- 
estant church in this city. They were the prime 
movers in it, and they stood by the enterprise 
in its times of peril, and guided it on to a per- 
manent establishment. The French Protestant 
college also lay near his heart, because it will 
help the class that need help. He was an 
instructive preacher. His distinctive work was 
that of a preacher of the gospel. He drew 
around him an intelligent congregation, and 
trained them up in the knowledge of God. All 
truth was germane in his work. Nature was 
only another Bible in his hands. 



REV, DR. J. M. GREENE. 157 

His style in writing was clear as crystal. 
You never were left in doubt as to his meaning. 
His words were always apt and elegant ; his 
expressions tender, yet forcible. He wrote new 
sermons to the last. And his sermons improved 
every year in freshness and vigor of thought. 
Highly cultured himself, he did not lose at all 
his sympathy with the uncultured. He could 
go into the home where plenty reigned and talk 
to the edification of scholars, scientists, artists ; 
and make himself just as agreeable the next 
hour in a home without carpet on the floor, 
w^ith no pictures on the walls, and only broken 
English as the vehicle of thought. The poor 
people of his parish and of the city loved him 
dearly, because he sympathized with them and 
helped them in their work and homes. This 
ought to be noted, for not a few say in these 
days that the pastoral part of the minister's 
office is dead, it does not pay, it cannot be suc- 
cessfully performed. But it was a mighty 
power for good in the hands of Dr. Street. He 
could talk religious truth persuasively as well 
as preach it. He could tell the story of the 
cross at the bedside of the dying as effectively 
as in the pulpit. His life and character spoke 
as loudly as his words. He won the hearts of 
the children as he met them on the street, his 



158 MEMORIAL SERMON. 

very countenance was a gospel, his courteous 
and gentlemanly manner a benediction. His 
scholarly influence upon the community was 
marked. He did much to elevate the tone of 
the pulpit, and to hold the respect and esteem 
of men of learning and culture for the church. 
I have often heard him say : " If we can carry 
fifty men, the best thinkers of the city, for 
Christ, or for any good cause, we have carried 
the city." Doubtless that is true ; and we may 
sometimes be too eager to save the masses, 
while we neglect the men who control the 
masses. 

I ought to add that his scholarship was taken 
note of by other scholars. In 1882, both his 
alma mater, Yale College, and Bates College 
conferred upon him the honorary degree of 
Doctor of Divinity. 

In conclusion, I will say that Dr. Street was 
fortunate in his helpers. He had rare workers 
in his church and parish. Such men as Judge 
Nathan Crosby, John K. Chase, Elijah M. 
Read, and doubtless others, besides many devout 
and honorable women, contributed not a little 
to the success and happiness of his ministry. 
No doubt a faithful minister does much to mould 
and inspire his co-workers. In a large degree 
he makes his own environment. Yet it is true 
that 



REV. DR. ROBERT COURT. 159 

" There's a divinity that shapes our ends 
Rough-hew them how we will." 

Evidently there was a Divine hand which 
united this pastor and people, and a Divine 
wisdom which so guided them that, for the long 
term of thirty years, they wrought together in 
harmony and grew all the time in grace and in 
the knowledge of God. 



FROM A SERMON BY REV. DR. COURT. 

For those who have worked will come at last 
the sweet sleep that fills the weary soul with 
the Sabbatic rest of a blissful eternity. Into 
that rest has entered one with whom I have 
enjoyed much pleasant, edifying and instructive 
communion — my friend and counsellor, the Eev. 
Dr. Owen Street. Very delightful are my rec- 
ollections of him. He was one of the first to ex- 
change pulpits with me when I came here, now 
more than thirteen years ago. For several years 
I saw him and enjoyed his society every Mon- 
day evening, for about two-thirds of the year, at 
the meetings of the Plato Club ; and there I had 
an opportunity of studying, appreciating and 
admiring bis many excellent qualities of both 
heart and head. It was an education in man- 



160 MEMORIAL SERMON. 

ners and in learning to have the privilege of 
taking part in a club which, under his presi- 
dency, read and conversed on the chief dialogues 
of Plato, the chief dramas of Sophocles and 
Euripides, the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius, 
the History of Philosophy, ancient and modern, 
by Schwegler, and the medieval Divina Corn- 
media of Dante, as was done in the Plato Club 
while he was over it. Any new light on a word, 
a doctrine, or a philosophical principle he was 
always ready to welcome. 

The last public occasion on which I met Dr. 
Street — the last time I saw him living — was at 
the Ministers' meeting in May. The conversa- 
tion turned on the meaning of certain Greek 
terms, when the good doctor quietly unfolded 
a portion of his stores of learning to illuminate 
the word of God. A brother said in reference 
to some of Dr. Street's statements, "But I 
don't know that that is so." Another said, 
"At least you know that that is Dr. Street's 
opinion." "Yes," said a third, "and that is 
much, for Dr. Street's opinion of any Greek 
word is worth knowing." Afterwards, in reply 
to an objection, he spoke of the bridge at Auburn- 
dale, of the molecular cohesion of metals, tried 
by unremitting tension, as yielding to a sudden 
strain, whereas had rest been given, the cohesion 



REV. DR. ROBERT COURT. 161 

would have come back so as to resist the strain. 
Here he unconsciously revealed his interest in 
molecular physics. 

This reminds me of another occasion when I 
went with the doctor, about twelve years ago, to 
address a religious meeting under the auspices 
of the Y. M. C. A., in a neighboring village. 
I remember how Dr. Street, speaking on work 
as a duty, brought in analogies from insects, 
birds and beasts, from the forces of nature and 
from the planets and suns in the universe, with 
a wondrous wealth of allusion for so humble an 
occasion. 

The Courier mentioned on Saturday in its 
eloge on Dr. Street that he was a more remark- 
able man than either his church or the commu- 
nity knew. This witness is true. His spotless 
life, his inflexible adherence to moral principle, 
his love of truth, his devotion to the Savior, 
are his legacy to us, his friends, brethren and 
fellow citizens. 



162 MEMORIAL SERMON. 



FROM A SERMON BY REV. J. L. SEWARD. 

"In the dignity of his character, in his devo- 
tion to duty, in the sincerity of his convictions, 
in his exemplary life, in his humility and sim- 
plicity, in the purity of his thoughts and acts, 
in all these respects, he as nearly typified true 
saintliness as we could ever expect to see it 
manifested. In the interest which he felt in 
the intellectual and moral advancement of the 
young people of his charge, as instanced in the 
Chautauqua circle ; in his love of nature, which 
enabled hnn to read the revelations which God 
has made in the rocks and the hills, and in the 
plants and insects ; in his admiration for clas- 
sical and philological pursuits, as evidenced by 
his Greek classes and Hebrew studies ; in his 
knowledge of literature ; in his impartiality, 
which was often noted in that literary club, 
whose readings took a wide range, introducing 
many shades of religious thought, and whose 
members represented widely varying religious 
sentiments, where his decisions were uniformly 
just, as its presiding officer ; in all these differ- 
ent phases of his character, we can but admire 
the completeness of the man and the upright- 
ness and integrity which marked his steps. 






REV. J. L. SEWARD. 163 

I cannot pass by his uniform kindness to other 
clergymen of the city ; a kindness which I have 
often felt, and now, and in this place, most 
gratefully acknowledge. A life of a half cen- 
tury of pastoral labors, and nearly thirty of 
these years devoted to a single charge, must 
have made a noble and lasting impression. 

As his life had been a fitting type of saintli- 
ness of manhood, so the dear companion who 
had blessed him in his earthly labor, and who, 
even in death, was permitted to bear him com- 
pany, represents that womanly consecration to 
truth and duty and religion, which constitutes 
true saintliness of womanhood." 



RESOLUTIONS OF RESPECT. 

The Plato Club, of which Dr. Street was 
president for nine consecutive years, adopted 
the following resolutions at a meeting held 
May 30 : 

Whereas, the late Reverend Owen Street, 
D. D., was president of the Lowell Plato 
Club, from its commencement through all the 
years of its existence ; and whereas, during his 
presidency, the club at their Monday evening 
symposia, read and conversed upon the best 
productions of ancient literature and philos- 
ophy ; and whereas the club has, in Dr. Street's 
death, lost its honored and revered president ; 
therefore it has passed the following resolu- 
tions : 

Resolved, that the members of the Plato 
Club express their sense of the great loss Lowell 
has suffered by the death of so good a man, so 
excellent a scholar, so dignified a gentleman, 
so public spirited a citizen, and so sincere a 
Christian as Dr. Street showed himself to be in 
all the walks of life and society. 

Resolved, that we cease not to remember Dr. 
Street's many distinguished qualifications for 
being the leader of a culture club like ours — 
his wide and varied erudition, his exact philo- 
logical scholarship, his fine literary and aesthetic 



PLATO CLUB. 166 

tastes, his love of exact truth, and his readiness 
to receive as well as to impart light in learning, 
science and philosophy, at all times. 

Resolved, that we testify to his mild and 
urbane manners, his sweet disposition, his 
equable temper, the justice of his decisions, the 
uniform desire that he showed to promote the 
ends for which the club was instituted, so that 
every one of us/elt that, as long as we had him 
for a guide, philosopher and friend, its meetings 
would be decorous and harmonious, love not 
being broken by diversity of opinion, so that 
it would always be worthy of its name. 

Resolved, that we testify our appreciation of 
his spotless life, his lofty sense of right, his 
loving heart, his gentle spirit, and his persua- 
sive voice and helping hand, ready for every 
good and noble cause. 

Resolved, that we sympathize with the family 
of our departed friend, in the double visitation 
that has afflicted it, and trust that the hope of 
a blessed immortality and the love and rever- 
ence of the entire community toward our late 
president's memory may mitigate the great woe 
laid upon his surviving relatives, and help them, 
even amid their sorrow, to rejoice in the rounded 
fullness of so fair a life before God and man. 

Resolved, that these resolutions be inscribed 
in the minutes of the club, that a copy be sent 
to the afflicted family, and that they be sent to 
the local journals for publication. 



166 RESOLUTIONS OF RESPECT. 

The Corporation of the French Protestant 
College at the annual meeting, June 6, adopted 
the following resolutions : 

Whereas, since the last meeting of this 
board, its senior member, the Rev. Owen Street, 
D. D., has been called from us by death; and 
whereas, he was not only one of the original 
members of this corporation, but one of the first 
to conceive of the importance of this college 
and to suggest and aid in its institution ; and 
because his thought, his time, his influence and 
his prayers were freely and zealously given to 
its advancement ; therefore 

Resolved, that we place upon record this 
expression of our sense of the great loss which 
has come to the college by his departure, and 
also our appreciation of his broad culture, his 
superior judgment in all matters pertaining to 
education, his wise counsel in questions of gov- 
ernment, and his intense devotion to its pros- 
perity. 

Resolved^ also, that we wish to express our 
admiration and affection for him as a man, so 
constantly revealed in the Christian charity of 
his judgment, in the firmness of his convictions 
and the sweetness of his spirit, as seen upon 
all occasions. 

Resolved^ that we rejoice in the life he lived, 
the work he did, the honors conferred upon 
his name, and the great rewards which we have 
faith to believe he has entered into. 






ANDOVER ASSOCIATION. 167 

Resolved, that as a slight testimonial of our 
appreciation of his character and his work, we 
recommend that the first building erected for 
the use of our college be called Owen Street 
Hall. 



The following minute was adopted by the 
Andover Association at its meeting in the 
chapel of Andover Theological Seminary June 
7, 1887, in reference to the death of Rev. Owen 
Street, D. D., and that of his wife : 

The Andover Association meeting on this 
beautiful June morning, in this familiar place, 
where our departed friend and brother has so 
often made us glad by his presence, desires to 
place upon its records its sense of the divine 
goodness in granting to him a long life of contin- 
ued usefulness and honor extending beyond the 
allotted three score years and ten, and in per- 
mitting him to withdraw from the battle with 
his armor on, and in his full strength, to the 
victor's rest and reward. 

That a similar happy exit should have been 
granted to Mrs. Street from the home she 
made so beautiful on earth, to the mansion Christ 
had prepared for them both above, and that she 
should have been allowed to perform her last 
earthly service in ministering to her dying hus- 
band, and then should have been summoned, 
after but a few hours of separation, to join him, 
and that their mortal remains should have been 



168 RESOLUTIONS OP RESPECT. 

laid away together in the bosom of the earth, 
is a circumstance so rare and yet so desirable 
and beautiful, that it would be ungrateful not 
to recognize in it the good hand of Him who 
hath said, ?r If I go and prepare a place for you, 
I will come again and receive you unto myself." 

Our estimate of the character and worth of 
our departed brother would not need here to 
be recounted, were these records to meet the 
eye of those only who have been his immediate 
associates. 

We desire to emphasize our estimate of his 
character first of all. He was among us uniting 
a manly dignity with a gentleness and grace 
rarely seen in this world of toiling, struggling 
men. His beautiful eye beamed with love and 
interest as he greeted us. We called him the 
Apostle John, and we are still disposed to claim 
the right to use that appellation. His talents 
as a man and his attainments as a scholar com- 
manded our respect as his character awakened 
our affection. He was our leader in the study 
of God's word, and in the wise interpretation 
of his providence. We look upon him now 
transferring all that God gave him to be on 
earth to the higher realms of the immortal life. 
We thank God for such a life and such a death, 
and write here our earnest prayer, which 
expresses the supreme desire of all our hearts, 
that we may, through God's grace, be followers 
of those who through faith and patience have 
inherited the promises* 



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